


An Unsuccessful, Sucessful Hostage Mission

by alerus



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Character Development, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24282001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alerus/pseuds/alerus
Summary: Rayla was assigned to kidnap the two princes, and bring them back to Xadia. What happens when Rayla finds Callum? Will her preconceived prejudice against humans be challenged? Will she be willing to fight against her own people?A story of loss, redemption, and love overcoming hate. {AU}
Relationships: Callum & Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 104
Kudos: 173





	1. Chapter 1

Callum didn’t know where he was running towards, rather that he simply needed to run. The sound of faint thunder in the distance and the sky transforming into a sickly gray held no merit for Callum to turn back. The streets of Katolis were desolate, the only sound present being Callum’s loud footsteps echoing alongside the buildings and the concurrent downpour of rain droplets. When Callum reached the stables, he didn’t greet the great brown mare with any pleasantries or even stop to catch his breath. As soon as he opened the fence-gate for the horse, he hopped on its saddle and guided it towards the open plains. 

The initial shock of the incident was slowly withering off, leaving Callum in an increasingly dangerous mental state by the second. 

He was told to run. Katolis had seen assassination attempts before. His step-father, King Harrow, had lived through quite a few. None of them, however, were from elves -- Moonshadow elves at that. The scenes of metal swords clashing, and the crown-guard, known for their superior combat, being dropped like training dummies, was playing through Callum’s mind. The facial expressions of the elves were that of raw anger and determination. Never before had he seen another as thirsty for blood. Their movements were nearly invisible to see, but their agility was ever-present in their ability to evade a seemingly impenetrable line of defense. 

Callum’s brother, Ezran, was torn apart from him by the crown-guard. Ezran would likely be a target of political assassination, unlike Callum, due to his direct lineage to Harrow. The guard assured Callum that Ezran would be evacuated, and sent to safety and that it would be wiser for him to depart separately. Their reasoning, being that if they were found, there would still be someone in line for the throne. 

Ezran struggled between the guards trying to carry him, landing his ineffective kicks and punches. The last words Callum heard before the tunnel entrance was sealed, was Ezran pleading the crown guard to let Callum come with himself. 

Any shock holding Callum from breaking down was entirely dissipated. The tears were freely flowing down his cheeks, combining with the heavy rainfall to cloud his vision. Callum now didn’t care if he was far enough from Katolis. As soon as he approached the forest north of Katolis, he immediately hopped off the horse and dropped down to his knees. 

Coping with grief changes a person. Those that experience great losses often detach themselves from reality, for the alternative is to face waves of despair and utter sorrow that isn’t survivable. Callum’s loss of his mother nearly drove him into madness. His anchor, to keep him from giving up, was Ezran. Even though Ezran at the time was only five years of age, and Callum was ten, he felt obligated to not give in to his despair. He felt a duty as an older brother, to  _ try  _ to recover, knowing his influence on Ezran. This obligation would prove to be the sole reason for Callum’s gradual recovery to normality. 

Scanning around the forest, Callum knew he was giving in as the minutes passed, into a pit of despair that would be nearly impossible to escape from. Maybe it was the delusion of hope or a self-preservation instinct, but Callum felt the need to believe Ezran was safe. He knew the likelihood of his step-father’s survival was slim to none, but Ezran  _ could _ have lived. Maybe he wasn’t even a target, to begin with. 

Slowly, Callum’s jagged breathing began to steady, along with his rapid heart rate. Ezran  _ is  _ alive. He has to be. 

After riding for hours, additionally at night, Callum was exhausted. Before drifting off, Callum tried to focus on his fond memories of Ezran, as he laid against the tree behind him. 

* * *

Rayla, unlike the rest of her team, was assigned to kidnap the two princes. The prince of more importance, being Ezran, the direct son of King Harrow. At first, Rayla was furious at Runaan for assigning her to kidnap duty. Runaan’s reasoning was her hesitance, and neglect to kill the scout who spotted them during that fateful night. His options for Rayla were to stay at the campsite during the assassination or to be assigned to kidnapping. Needless to say, Rayla chose kidnapper duty full-heartedly. 

Being inside a human castle was surreal. The architecture in the human castle was heavily fixed on ashlars; smooth, squared blocks of stone being aligned in various different ways. In Xadia, the use of stone for buildings was rare. In major cities, the use of granite, and quartz, the two main building materials, were given more slants, and character. The entire castle seemed to be as one-dimensional in its style as possible. 

Rayla huffed due to her lack of direction. Rayla wondered if the designers of the castle purposely designed the hallways to behave in a similar manner as labyrinths. After reaching another dead end, she kicked the nearby wooden stool towards the end of the hallway. 

Rayla needed to find at least one of the princes. Not only to show Runaan that she was capable of carrying out orders but to also make up for her previous mistakes. Following the path of the kicked stool, Rayla caught a glimpse of movement from a relatively young individual. Could this be one of the princes? 

Placing her back against the wall, Rayla crept alongside it and slowly peeked her head out. Rayla saw the exit to the castle, yet no movement. Whoever ran, must have already exited. Now starting to run, Rayla reached her two blades out and pursued the individual. 

The person was now in eyesight, frantically running down the street with his legs and arms flailing about. He was around Rayla’s height and looked about her age from the vantage point. Without hesitation, Rayla ran after the boy. 

After she rounded the corner, however, the boy was at the stable, tending to a horse. This was a clear confirmation for Rayla, that the boy wasn’t an ordinary citizen coincidentally in the castle. A citizen would run to their house, not attempt to flee the entire kingdom.

Nonetheless, the boy quickly mounted rode the horse into the seemingly endless valley. 

Rayla grimaced.

She never liked riding animals back in Xadia -- she’d much rather travel by foot rather than relying on another animal for transportation. With a sigh, she approached a white mare cautiously, grabbing a carrot from a bag full of them nearby. Once she fed the horse, she led its rein to the open fence and hopped on its saddle quite ungraciously. 

Due to the weather conditions, following the suspected prince was an easy task for Rayla. The boy’s horse left a clear track, as a result of the mud, where they were heading. 

The actual act of riding the horse was very foreign to Rayla. She found herself cursing at the horse’s seeming neglect for her instructions to speed up, and to slow down when the horse was moving too fast. Rayla didn’t want to be in eyesight if the boy turned around, so she kept a far distance between themselves. 

After a few painful hours of navigating through the boy’s tracks, Rayla discovered the other horse’s track leading to a forest. Rayla now understood that obtaining both princes was out of the picture. Runaan would simply have to be satisfied with one prince, for by the time she headed back, her team would already be miles from Katolis. 

Instead of taking her horse, Rayla deemed it wiser to travel on foot -- especially because a horse can’t ride efficiently in a forest as untamed as this one. Knowing that the boy must be close, Rayla started being mindful of her footsteps, constantly scanning the forest floor for any twigs, or leaves that would compromise her location. 

Just as Rayla was thinking that the boy _did_ ride his horse through this awful forest, she spotted a great brown mare standing idly. Right beside the horse, was the boy, completely asleep. 

Smiling, Rayla headed towards the unsuspecting step-prince. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, once the story gets going the chapters will be hella long. ALSO: please comment it helps motivate me :)
> 
> also also: i have my last ap test thursday. send prayers because i'm 100% getting a 2.
> 
> also also also: i hate collegeboard
> 
> last also: WHERE IS SEASON 4444444444444444444444444444444444444444


	2. The Campsite

“Callum! Help me!” 

Callum’s dreams were volatile, saying the least. Flashbacks to Ezran being pulled away from himself replayed in Callum’s mind like a continuous loop. Each time Ezran struggled between the two guards, flailing about, Callum felt more and more hopeless. 

The scenery suddenly transformed from the tunnel entrance into the throne room. Callum was outside his own body, looking towards his ten-year-old self. Harrow was kneeling down to him, which is when Callum quickly recognized what the memory was. Harrow placed his hands over his younger self’s shoulder and attempted to look him in the eyes. After breaking Callum’s younger self the news regarding his mother, he slowly walked backward, shaking his head in denial. After a few paces, he turned away from Harrow and ran towards the door, where Callum stood watching. 

Callum attempted to reach towards his younger self, to tell him that it would be alright -- that the pain that comes with grief will not be permanent, but he was awoken by a sharp pressure in his chest. 

* * *

The boy had obviously been crying, Rayla thought to herself. There were tear stains down his two cheeks, and his body was convulsing in a strange manner, likely due to a bad dream. A pang of guilt crept inside of Rayla but was quickly pushed down. Holding her right-sword to the suspected prince’s chest, Rayla woke up the boy. 

Applying a dangerous amount of pressure to his chest, Rayla finally spoke. “Wake up, human.” 

Callum’s eyes flickered for a moment, adjusting himself to the situation. He recalled the events that transpired the night before, until finally realizing the situation he was in. “Uh, who are you, and wha-” Callum’s eyes scanned the stranger, finally realizing the severity of the situation. “You’re th-, an assassin, with the ears and hor-” 

Rayla was growing increasingly impatient. “Yes, I’m an elf” Rayla replied with some disdain in her voice. “I won’t be the one answering questions. Do you understand?” 

Callum gulped, looking at the elf’s sword starting to create a small tear in his shirt. Despite the overwhelming fear for his life, he couldn’t help but be amazed at the elf in front of him. The only elves Callum had seen were in paintings or illustrations, often depicting beings with distorted faces or long fangs. He remembered himself being afraid of those paintings, and thus, his thought of elves reflected that fear. Callum now realized that the paintings he grew up with were clearly a depiction of propaganda, for the elf in front of him was stunning. From an artist’s perspective, the lack of a fifth finger, the horns, shade of skin, ear length, and shape were all fascinating to observe in person. 

Rayla was confused by the curious looks the human was given, especially at the circumstance he was in. “What’s your name, human?” Rayla said, her eyes narrowing on the helpless prince. 

The light of the sunrise leaked through the tree branches behind the elf, illuminating her pale, rosy face and snow-white hair. Her lilac eyes were both surreal, and frightening, being fixed in a stone-cold glare. 

Despite the dire circumstance, the thought of ‘ _ she’s stunning’ _ flashed through Callum’s mind.

Unfortunately, Callum’s starstruck moments with a literal  _ assassin  _ were cut short with Rayla’s next words. “You don’t have to die.” She strengthens her grip on her blade, twisting the sharp tip to make the boy more uncomfortable. “What is your name?”

Callum wasn’t thinking straight -- how could he? Waking up to a sword pointed to his chest didn’t inspire much productive cognitive function, and it didn’t help that he was  _ admiring _ said person. “Callum.” 

The elf’s eyes lit up in recognition of the name, which promptly caused Callum to realize what a brainless mistake he had made. What was he thinking? Giving his  _ own  _ name to an assassin most likely sent to kill him? Callum for a split second pondered lunging into the sword, to escape the absolute  _ stupidest _ decision he made in his lifetime. 

The elf narrowed her eyes, still continuing to grip her blade. A cold wave of fear passes through Callum in the form of sweat, as the realization that his life could come to an end was looking more realistic. Just as Callum was going to raise his hand and object to his own mutilation, the elf pulled her sword away from his chest.

After a momentary silence between the two, which was an eternity to Callum, Rayla hoisted him up by gripping the collar of his shirt. “You’re coming with me,  _ prince _ Callum.” 

Gulping nervously, Callum’s hands were quickly bound by material not quite like rope but clearly resembled its uses. Katolis would be miles away from his current location, and a search party would likely arrive in hours -- far too long for his needed escape. There was a slim possibility of someone spotting him, and alerting the proper authorities, especially if the elf chose to travel by horseback. 

As if reading the prince’s mind, the elf walked purposefully towards Callum’s brown mare and sent him free with a firm blow to its back. He could have sworn to see the elf’s lips form a smirk of sorts, before promptly returning to her frowning state. 

“I hope you don’t mind walking,  _ prince _ ,” Rayla slyly remarks, before staring at his build -- clearly resembling someone of privilege, with little-to-no physical labor. 

The walk back towards the campsite, as one could guess, was quiet. The only noise being their feet’s impact on the forest floor. Rayla purposefully let Callum lead the way, with her giving directions towards the campsite. Rayla knowingly chose to take the long, wooded path back to the campsite, to avoid any potential for scouts to spot their lost step-prince. 

Despite her overwhelming distaste for humans, Rayla couldn’t help but observe the forest around her. Growing up, she was taught that the human side of the continent was a barren wasteland -- devoid of color or beauty. Although Rayla wouldn’t describe this forest to be necessarily more vibrant, or beautiful, she wouldn’t denounce it as a ‘wasteland’ like she was told it was. The leaves from the trees were an array of different colors; some being orange, while others taking a different variety of shades of yellow, and brown. There were no magical entities, yet she spotted a family of deer bathing in a patch of sunlight. It wasn’t  _ less _ than the Xadian forests, rather, it had a different charm. A more rustic, and modest allure compared to the vibrant aura Xadia gives off. 

Ralya took a thoughtful glance at her prisoner. She wonders what his notion of Xadia’s appearance was; if it was as wrong as her preconceived notion of the human lands were. She didn’t pay much attention to her hostage. If a fearsome glance from the one guard restrained her from carrying out her duty, then she wouldn’t risk forming any attachment to the person she needs to imprison. 

Despite her begrudging goal to not look at her prisoner for too long, she noticed his eyes. From Rayla’s own life experience, the body can deceive, but the eyes can never lie. For example, Rayla noticed this when she made her trip down to the human lands with her team. They stumbled upon a mother bear, and her cubs. The cubs, obviously startled, scurried behind their mother as a source of protection. The mother stood on its hind-legs, growling, and attempting to intimidate her team. Rayla looked into the mother’s eyes and didn’t see ferocity, and aggression, but rather raw  _ panic _ . The panic of losing her young ones resulted in her necessity to intimidate, yet the mom’s eyes held her true emotions. It was in fact the same reason why Rayla couldn’t kill the guard during that fateful night. If he had shown defiance, hatred, or contempt, then she would not have hesitated in ending his life. Instead, the guard held a look of utter fear. That fear resulted in Rayla wondering about his relationships, the people he impacted, and more importantly his  _ life. _ Callum’s eyes didn’t hold fear like the guard had. Any initial fear or shock of the kidnapping was diminished, having been walking for a few hours. Yet, his eyes didn’t hold sadness like she suspected it would. Rayla presumed that Callum would beg for her to release him, to let him live his  _ life _ , to reconnect with his family. There was no such sign of longing, or sadness. Looking into his eyes, she recognized his stare for what it was; a look of complete despair, and anguish.

Rayla recognized his look, for she had seen that exact stare of hopelessness before -- in herself. After hearing the news of her parent’s betrayal as members of the elite dragon guard, Rayla locked herself in her room for _ days _ . She remembered staring at her bedroom mirror for hours on end, simply looking at herself. Wondering if she could even  _ love  _ them still. If she would even see them again. She recalled her last words said to her parents, being: “Don’t try to play the parent-card, you lost that privilege years ago.” She replayed her last words in her head, very well knowing that could have been her last interaction with them.

The only reason for her gradual recovery, was Runaan and Ethari’s support and unconditional love. Rayla suddenly felt a deep tug at her heart. Callum would likely spend the rest of his life in prison, hundreds of miles away from anyone he knows. Will he ever recover as she did?

As quickly as the wave of guilt, came crashing into her head, it was quickly soaked up.  _ No Rayla, humans are evil -- they show neglect and no remorse for taking the life of others, even their own people _ , she thought. Humans were responsible for the most blood-curdling atrocities committed. The unprovoked  _ murder _ of the king of the dragons, the capture of his only egg, the destruction of Evelain, and its people, and much more. They show no  _ humanity  _ in their conquest for childish power. It would be foolish for her to try and attempt to sympathize with a seeming sub sentient species.

Hearing the crashing of water, Rayla realized that they were nearing the campsite. Grabbing one of her swords, and pressing it against the prince’s back, Rayla ordered him to walk faster. He must have realized their location, as he turned his head towards the faint outline of the castle across the river. Rayla noticed a sudden glimmer of light in his eyes, before quickly returning to their original state; devoid of any life. 

Rayla laughed dryly. “This might be the last time you see your castle. Might as well take it in” she says, expecting some sort of emotional response, like tears or anger to her statement. Instead, his eyes remained the same dullness in them and he continued to walk. 

For the first time since his capture, Callum spoke softly under his breath. “Nothing left for me there anyways.”

Rayla didn’t know whether to feel bad, to feel angry, or to simply feel nothing at his blunt statement. Shaking her head, she ushered him to walk faster. The campsite was awfully close. 

Rayla thought about how she would tell Runaan that she was only able to kidnap one prince. Surely he wouldn’t expect me to catch both of them by herself, she thought. Would they go back to capture prince Ezran? Or would Runaan be satisfied with the step-prince? Rayla bit her lip in worry as they were approaching the clearing where their campsite laid. 

“Runaan, I’m back,” Rayla announced, as she pushed Callum through the bushes that helped conceal the area. Inside the clearing, Rayla noticed the backpacks, and gear left by her team. Everything was there, just as they left it, except for her team. A cold shiver went down her spine. They wouldn’t be in the castle still, it had been almost a day, and her binding connected to King Harrow’s assassination fell off a night ago. Surely, they’d be back by now. 

Callum, after seeing something was amiss, took the opportunity to sit down and rest his legs. The walk over towards the campsite took the entire day, with the sun now beginning to fall as Rayla paced in the clearing. 

Rayla was panicking. Should she go into the castle to help them? Do they need her help? Are they captured, or --  _ are they dead? _ The mere thought of losing Runaan made Rayla’s knees start to buckle. She didn’t know if she could complete her end of the mission without him, or with the prospect that he was  _ gone _ . 

It took Callum a while to piece together the puzzle pieces. Why was the elf pacing, and clearly in a state of panic? He looked around, only to see a wide array of items. Some of them being small, blue rocks, or quivers lying across the campsite. All of the tents were still up, along with what looked like to be their belongings, in many bags.  _ Oh _ , Callum thought. If the assassin’s belongings were still at the campsite, then maybe they were captured, or killed. Callum perked up. Maybe they weren’t successful in their mission, them not returned and all. He knew that Harrow was most likely killed, having seen the elves breach the crown guard’s defenses entirely. But Ezran could still be safe, and more importantly, alive. 

Rayla was at a crossroads. She could search the castle for Runaan, and her team, or finish her mission. She already knew the king was dead, the remaining part of their mission was reliant on her ability to carry it out. Rayla took a deep breath and glanced towards her side at the prince. He was staring intently at her -- not with malice or hatred, but as if he was trying to read her. Taking a final glance at the castle, she grabbed the prince’s arm and directed him east. “Let’s go, we’re not stopping for a while. We got a lot of distance to catch up on.”

* * *

Since it was only a night after the full moon, its size was still just as impressive. Rayla, like all Moonshadow elves, normally felt more attune to their arcanum on nights with larger moons. Tonight, as she was sitting on a hill, keeping a close eye on the prince, she didn’t feel much. In fact, she felt empty. The mere thought of Runaan being killed, or imprisoned by the ruthless, barbaric humans drained all of her energy.  _ Runaan would have wanted me to complete the mission _ , she thought to herself. It was always the mission before anything, it was always  _ training  _ before anything. 

Rayla tried to remember a time when she was devoid of the weight she had on her shoulders -- the weight her parent’s betrayal gave. A time where she wasn’t constantly training, preparing for a mission with her team. A time when she was a normal teenager, growing up in a normal household, with  _ normal  _ parents. Rayla laughed to herself, imagining going to a Xadian school, perhaps meeting a boy, and making friends. Such a life was stripped from her for a long time, yet, Rayla couldn’t help but imagine. 

Before Rayla departed on the mission to human lands with her team, Runaan had spent some time with her the night before. Rayla replayed the fond memory in her head. _ “This damn string won’t work with me,” grumbled Runaan, staring threateningly at the pieces of string laid out in front of him.  _

_ Rayla smirked and attempted to help. Runaan, however, was not going to let her baby him in the way of making a bracelet. “I’m a trained assassin, one would think to make a bracelet with my  _ **_daughter_ ** _ would be easier than shooting a bow.” _

_ Rayla always considered Runaan and Ethari her parents. But referring them as ‘dad’ was never tried out before. She hoped that they would eventually get to that stage, but didn’t want to cross any boundaries in the meantime. After all, maybe they didn’t see  _

_ Rayla as a daughter -- but an obligation. Runaan certainly wasn’t the biggest emotional person out there. Hearing Runaan call her by ‘daughter’, made Rayla stop weaving and look up at him. _

_ Runaan stopped attempting to weave, realizing what he said. Looking away, he spoke quietly. “I’m sorry if I crossed any boundaries.” _

_ Rayla quickly rushed next to him and entrapped him in a hug. Circling her arms around his back, she spoke inside his chest. “Don’t apologize,  _ **_dad_ ** _.” _

Smiling at the memory, Rayla stroked her bracelet. It was clumsily made, and there were gaps where the strings didn’t quite intertwine correctly, but she loved it. It didn’t hold any magic, any precious metals, or jewels. Rayla saw it as a promise. A promise that there could be a life where she can call Runaan and Ethari ‘dad’, and complain to them about meaningless issues. A life where she didn’t have to be constantly attempting to prove her worth, to somehow alleviate from her parent’s mistakes. 

Looking up towards the nearly full moon, tears began to escape Rayla’s eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prejudices begin to be tested their first day?!?!??!?!?
> 
> im done with ap testing, which means i'll update within a week of each chapter. idk why i wrote so much the day I had my ap test, but it izzz what it izzzz
> 
> anyways rayla big sad, callum big sad, will they become less sad together ;) also callum will learn magic, just not in the way the original series layed itself out like.
> 
> leave comment and remember to stay hydrated out there


	3. Moonlit Conversations and Realizations

Callum quickly discovered that walking with his hands tied behind his back was not as easy as it originally seemed. For example, if there was a bush of thorns or a tree branch that obstructed his path, Callum had to brute force his way through it. The elf wasn’t much help, simply staring blankly at him when he turned to her and notioned towards her sword for assistance. 

Warm weather, combined with the forced exercise caused Callum, a pretty unathletic individual, to start sweating. It wasn’t much, but a trickle of sweat managed to slip its way onto Callum’s wrist, which mingled with the material restraining him. This caused there to be a tremendous itch, that he tried to ignore. After all, when one thinks about something, it becomes increasingly bothersome, and --

“Can you cut this binding off?” Callum let out, stopping in his tracks. 

Rayla paused. For the first three days of traveling, the prince walked in complete silence. Not even a cough, or a sneeze was heard from him. It was a relief at first, that she could keep to her own thoughts, but as time passed it became almost  _ too _ quiet. It had gotten to the point where the only voice she heard was when she gave directions. 

Before she could retort, the prince quickly continued. “Listen,” the prince began, attempting to come off as rational as possible. “You’re a trained assassin, significantly faster, and I’m a prince that has never walked more than a few miles a day” Callum said, lifting his bindings so she could see them. “You can bind me when I sleep, but please, for the love of any elven god you might worship, have some  _ humanity _ and let me be more comfortable.”

Rayla thought about it for a moment. If he chose to speak, given his record in abstaining from talking, it meant he truly was in discomfort. Besides, even if he did run off, catching him wouldn’t be a challenge in the slightest. Walking up to the prince, she saw him nervously gulp as she lifted one of her blades. With one clean strike, she dismantled his wrist bindings. As soon as the bindings fell, she noticed his facial expressions ease and heard a sigh of relief as he rubbed his observably itchy wrist. 

“Thanks,” the prince murmured, continuing to walk.

Rayla stopped walking. Did he really just say, ‘thanks’? After all she had done to uproot his life, he offered his thanks for a binding  _ she _ put on him? Baffled, she stared at the walking prince, still noticing his look of hopelessness from before. “You’re... welcome?” Rayla offered, shaking her head in disbelief that they were exchanging pleasantries in their circumstance. 

Callum didn’t think much in saying ‘thanks’. After all, it was common courtesy. It wasn’t until he heard the elf reply hesitantly, did he realize the absurdity of the situation. He was thanking the person that had uprooted his entire life, maybe courtesy should be scrapped given the circumstance. Chuckling to himself, he continued the trek a little lighter than before. Perhaps it was due to the lack of dialogue he had for days, or the prospect of  _ talking _ with an elf, but nonetheless, he felt a tad bit lighter. That is, as light as one could feel during a kidnapping. 

* * *

The past three nights had been painstaking for Callum. Sleep never came easy, for nightmares were a regular occurrence, often making Ezran the focus of them. Additionally, eating was a next-level of awkwardness and discomfort.  _ Comfortable  _ silence is when both parties partake in a mutual decision not to speak, when  _ both  _ parties are, well, comfortable. The silence that had become normalized in his new life as a hostage wasn’t biding well with Callum, especially when the elf was constantly staring at him with her icy glare. 

Glancing from the campfire towards the elf for a split-second, he noticed that the elf, like normal, was looking towards him. At this, Callum frowned. The least she could do was to make the trip as un-awkward as a kidnapping could be. Callum was growing tired of the staring, combined the eerie, and simultaneously awkward silence. If he had to go through this for a month, or however long the trip to Xadia would take, he was sure he would lose his remaining sanity. 

It wasn’t long until the elf bounded his wrists, and told him to sleep. Although sleep didn’t come easy for him, he acknowledged the importance of his rest, knowing the strenuous days ahead of him. 

Callum was granted a few hours of undisturbed rest but was awoken by a noise. The moonlight seeped through the trees surrounding them, illuminating their campsite. Scanning the campsite for the perpetrator, he heard the noise again. Locating the source, he realized what he was hearing. Passed the fire, sat a hunched-up figure staring into the night sky. The elf was crying. She was hugging her knees, and shaking with her head buried into her arms. At this, Callum frowned and opted to lie back down, attempting to block out the sound. 

Unfortunately, the sobbing was increasing in volume and was disheartening Callum by the second. What could he do, though?  _ I shouldn’t feel bad for an assassin, let alone an  _ **_elf_ ** , Callum thought to himself. But choosing to be a bystander, and listen to her agonizing cries, felt  _ immoral.  _

Despite the talk to himself to not feel any sympathy towards her, the continuous sobbing eventually broke him. The elf’s cheeks were wet with tear stains, her eyes were devoid of its original charm, being slightly bloodshot from the crying. He knew that if she caught him staring, the sheer amount of awkwardness would likely kill him on the spot. 

He wasn’t a bad person for  _ not  _ comforting her, Callum told his conscious. She was a literal  _ assassin,  _ sent to kill his step-father and possibly his brother. She was sending him to a life in perpetual pain, hundreds of miles away from his home. Yet, listening to her breaking down, and simply sitting idly by felt…  _ inhuman.  _ Sure, she was holding him in captivity, and sending him to a likely life-imprisonment. But she wasn’t abusive, or barbaric in her job. She offered him plenty of food in their breaks, she cut off his bindings when he asked her to, and never blatantly insulted him, or mocked his position. She certainly didn’t hold the description of elves he was fed growing up. Not only were her appearances entirely different from the illustrations, but her mannerism didn’t match the ‘elf’ he was taught as a kid. He was taught elves were emotionless and devoid of  _ human  _ qualities like compassion, and love. If that was the case, then what was the elf doing right now? This elf obviously felt emotion, and sympathy given her action to help Callum’s wrist. Knowing this, would  _ not  _ attempting to help her make  _ him _ the one in the wrong? 

Rubbing his face reluctantly, Callum sighed and walked towards the crying elf. In his experience, crying took many forms. There was the overwhelmed crying, the anxious crying, the existential crying. The elf in front of him, however, was clearly coping with something much worse.  _ Loss.  _ Only a form of loss would tear someone apart like this. Hesitantly, Callum chose to sit down with a little distance between them.

The elf’s ears rose in the sound of Callum walking. “What are you doi-”

“It gets better you know,” Callum softly interjected, choosing to stare at the moon. 

The elf, rightfully shocked, sat in silence for a while. She didn’t tell him to go back to sleep, or even tell him to leave her alone. She simply sat, no longer crying, looking outwards towards the luminous sky. Her shoulders were still subtly shaking but were nowhere near the speed he observed previously.

For what seemed like an eternity, the elf quietly broke the silence. She spoke tentatively, obviously confused by his willingness to talk to her. “How -- how do you know?” She practically whispered, still maintaining her sight outwards. 

Still confused about why he was trying to comfort her, Callum was careful with his next words. “If you want me to be honest, I don’t know.” The elf took a quick glance at him, before returning towards the sky. “I thought I wouldn’t make it,” Callum admitted.

“It was my brother that pulled me out of my pit. He saved me,” Callum said, smiling inwardly at the image of Ezran. “Not that overcoming grief is impossible to do on one’s own, but in my experience, having someone beside you lifts some of the weight that grief so often gives.”

The elf looked like she was thinking deeply about what he had said. She momentarily opened her mouth to reply but must have thought it would be better not to speak. 

Callum took the silence as an invitation to leave. Heading back to the fire, he heard the elf murmur something. It was faint and almost fearful, but he was certain that she said:  _ thanks.  _

It took him a few hours of restless sleep to come to a realization. Loss was universal. Elves, and humans alike mourn and grieve just like one another. If the elf’s sobbing wasn’t proof, then certainly the elve’s reaction to the dragon king being slain was. Callum knew that the killing of Thunder was justified in the king’s eyes, for he stripped the love of his life away from him, yet he couldn’t be as naive to say that the murder of King Harrow wasn’t justified in a way either. Their  _ loss _ , made them lash out in retaliation. 

It now became glaringly clear that  _ loss  _ was a universal language -- spoken by both elves and humans. If elves had the capacity to mourn and grieve, then surely they had the capacity to  _ love _ . 

Callum almost laughed realizing what he had come across. If it took Callum to get kidnapped, to be in a position of historical knowledge, and to see an elf on a daily basis to come to this realization, it was no surprise that humans and elves hated each other as much as they did. 

That wasn’t to say that Callum now saw elves as his friends -- but to see them as below them, or as monsters, was a deeply ignorant sentiment, and he had only been with one for three nights to discover this. He wondered if the elf had come across this way of thinking as well, or if she simply held her same prejudices like he did. Realizing that elves weren’t the sub-sentient, inhuman monsters that they were depicted as was strangely hopeful. After all, if a person whose father was assassinated, and taken prisoner for his entire life could discard some of the hatred he had inside of him, who’s to say that other people can’t? Was a world without an ongoing war so far out of the picture? If everyone held the same newly created view as Callum, would his mother and step-father still be alive?

Callum understood that he was getting ahead of himself. Not only a few days ago, did he have the ignorant depiction of elves that he was fed to. 

Despite the seemingly naive, and impossible idea that the war could end, Callum found sleep for the first time since his imprisonment. Perhaps it was the hope of a world without fighting, or perhaps it was the possibility of a world where humans and elves could be  _ friends _ , but Callum wasn’t visited by any nightmares during his deep slumber. 

* * *

Sleep didn’t come to Rayla easily. Surprisingly, her restlessness wasn’t from the prospect of losing Runaan, rather the human prince’s willingness to help her when she was crying. If treating the person who’s in charge of their own imprisonment with kindness wasn’t already impressive, the fact that she was an elf makes it even more so. 

Rayla was taught, like all elves, that humans were lesser beings. Their sub-century life expectancy, combined with their arrogance, and thirst for power, made them less prone to emotion, and devoid of any valuable qualities. They were supposedly emotionless, power-craving beings who showed no remorse in their actions. The step-prince of Katolis didn’t seem to fit that description. He voluntarily consoled her when she was upset and was certainly not emotionless.

Simply by attempting to help her, the  _ elf  _ that was part of an assassination plot  _ against _ his family, he debunked the description of his species entirely.

Troubled by her line of thought, Rayla rubbed her temple, attempting to remain rational about the human’s actions.  _ So what if there was a ‘good’ human in the mix of all the bad ones _ , she thought to herself. Regardless of the step prince’s character, the previous actions of humans can’t be nullified by  _ one _ outlier. 

Rayla sighed. Of  _ course _ she would overthink a way of thought passed down for generations. Typical Rayla, to try and challenge a generational way of thinking. Turning her body to try and find a more comfortable position in her sleeping-bag, Rayla looked towards the sleeping prince. 

Although she hated to acknowledge it, if there was one human that didn’t fit the elve’s preconceived image of them, there were sure to be others. 

* * *

Since their ‘discussion’ last night, all has been quiet. Previously, Callum viewed the silence as uneasy, which was in part due to the elf’s frequent hardened glares. Today, the amount of talking remained the same, but the stares were few and far between, making the silence less unsettling. 

Now that they were nearing the breach that divided Xadia and the human lands, the scenery was getting less and less levelled, like the valleys and forests in Katolis. No longer were they surrounded by auburn trees, but rather a more mountainous region. Callum appreciated the change in scenery, after all, he had never seen a mountain before, not including illustrations. 

They were oddly uplifting to look at; being isolated from the ground, paying no attention to the events that transpired on the surface. The peaks penetrated the clouds, making their ends visible only in his imagination. The mountain was obviously stable, being a mountain and all, yet it was devoid of all the chaos surrounding it -- simply living amongst the clouds. It was a brief distraction from reality, but when he saw the elf staring, he was quickly reminded of his situation and his troubled thoughts regarding Ezran’s whereabouts. 

Rayla noticed the human staring towards the mountain that laid ahead and could have sworn to see his eyes light up momentarily. He seemed to be enjoying the view, which made her half-smile. Noticing that she was staring, his eyes quickly returned to its original, static dullness. “Do you need to rest before we start the hike through the mountain? Rayla asked, hoping to prevent any injuries. 

How was he supposed to respond to the elf’s question? He wasn’t feeling particularly tired, but why would he admit that only to be near his prison sooner? Regardless, he did appreciate the gesture, no matter how small it was. Callum sighed. “I think I’ll be alright to continue,” he said, traversing through the valley. 

Rayla simply nodded at his response, continuing to walk towards the base of the mountain. 

Quickly into their trek upwards, it became apparent that their current attire would be ill-equipped for the night. Unfortunately, the nearest town was miles away from their location, which would make them lose significant time. Rayla observed that the human prince was coping poorly with the cold, using his sleeve as a substitute for a tissue as he began to sniffle.

The flora that Ralya quietly admired in the forestry areas of the human lands were getting more and more sparse as they increased altitude. The only vegetation being the occasional wild grass bush or a shrub. 

As the sun began to fall, they had reached the snow-line of the mountain. There was no life to be seen, all that was ahead resembled a snowy incline, with no end in sight. Frowning, Rayla knew that they would have to set up camp for the night, given the consequences that hiking a snowy mountain blindly in the dark gave. 

Noticing a cave in the far distance, Rayla motioned towards it with her finger to let the prince know where to walk towards.

The cave had no snow inside, which meant setting up the quaint fire was an easy task. Giving the prince his portion of the berries she picked in the morning, Rayla feared for the temperature drop the night would hold. When her team traversed through the mountain, they had made sure not to spend the night, opting to complete the trek in a day. With their small fire and the  _ one _ sleeping bag, the night was bound to be problematic. 

Looking at the prince to see how he was coping, she noticed that he was facing the wall of the cave, with his head buried into his knees. He seemed particularly down today, which she didn’t necessarily have a problem with, but he refused to eat anything for breakfast, and now dinner. His portion of the berries remained uneaten alongside his hunched body. 

“You should eat, you know,” Rayla bluntly stated, motioning towards the uneaten berries on the cave floor. 

The prince shifted slightly at her words but remained to stare at the wall. With a lack of a response, Rayla groaned. “You’re going to need the strength for tomorrow, human,” Rayla said, with a little agitation in her voice. 

Once again, silence consumed the cave. The concurrent crackling flames being the only sound that reverberated around the cave walls. Just as Rayla was going to give up, the prince shifted his body so it was facing herself and the fire. Looking intently into the coals, the prince spoke. “Why do you call me that?” He said, pausing to momentarily glance into her eyes. “Why do you call me  _ human _ ? You know my name. Yet you deliberately call me that… why?”

Rayla paused to think. She never took any thought in calling the prince ‘human’ during their occasional discussion. Why would he rather be called his name? Was it offensive to refer to him as ‘human’? Rayla narrowed her eyes towards the prince. “Would  _ you  _ rather me call you by your name?” Rayla hesitantly said. 

Holding his stare into the campfire, Callum softly replied. “Yes. I would prefer that.” 

Rayla was terribly perplexed at the prince’s request to be called by his name. Calling him by his name would feel… personal. She was an  _ assassin _ and was actively kidnapping him. Could he tell that she would be the type to hesitate? Was this an attempt to get her to lower her guards?

Callum must have seen her facial expressions, and quickly interjected before she could reply. “It just sounds…  _ dehumanizing _ ,” Callum said, visibly cautious to not upset her. “It sort of implies that humans are  _ lesser _ ,” Callum added.

At that, Rayla rose her eyebrow. Did he truly believe elves aren’t lesser than his own species? Is that why he was persistent on this?

Challenging his reasoning, Rayla sat up straight and replied. “Do  _ you _ think elves are lesser than humans?”

Callum took little-to-no time in responding to her question. “No, I don’t.”

Rayla was stunned. Why would he, a person whose life was uprooted, and torn apart by elves hold that sentiment? “If you truly take offense in that, then yes. I will call you by your name.” Rayla took a brief pause, still not sure how to converse with a  _ human _ \-- let alone her prisoner. “Do you have any other requests--” Rayla paused, internally cringing her next word that would leave her mouth. “-- Callum?” 

“I’d like to know two more things,” Callum said immediately, obviously eager for whatever he wanted to know. 

Rayla’s ears perked up with that, being surprised that the prince -- or  _ Callum, _ would want to continue their strained conversation. 

Callum paused in front of her and seemed frightened. His hands were shaking in his lap, with gleams of sweat beginning to appear on his forehead. Looking at him, Rayla concluded that he was apprehensive about his question.

“Was Ezran, my brother, a target, for you know,” Callum said, gulping at his next words. “Was he a target for assassination?” Callum let out meekly, his hands shaking more violently.

Rayla involuntarily softened at Callum’s worry for his brother. The uncertainty of his brother’s fate, similarly to Runaan’s, was the probable culprit of his darkened mood. It was sweet, seeing that he didn’t care for himself -- rather worrying about his brother’s fate. Rayla’s hardened glare towards Callum eased. “My mission was to  _ kidnap  _ both princes of Katolis. Your brother was not a target… like your father was,” Rayla replied, looking away from the prince at her last words. 

What Rayla saw next was  _ astonishing. _ For the first time since the kidnapping, the prince -- or Callum, smiled. It was a smile that resembled pure relief, and unadulterated happiness. His eyes were positively glowing, resembling bright green orbs of light in contrast to their previously dull appearance. Nothing, however, compared to his smile. His eyes had a slight crinkle to them, with the appearance of dimples being showcased for the first time on his cheeks. Despite his position as a prisoner, most likely life, Callum looked like he was the most free-living soul on the planet. 

Rayla, looking at the prince letting out laughs of relief and delight at the news, was completely moved. Not just at Callum’s drastic transformation, but at the  _ source  _ of his happiness. His happiness was with the news of his brother’s freedom, not his own. And if that didn’t warm up anyone’s heart, human  _ or _ elf, then Rayla didn’t know what would. 

Letting out  _ her  _ first smile, Rayla motioned towards the berries again. “Do you think you’ll eat now, Callum?”

Callum turned towards her at the sound of his name. “Yes, but before I do, I have one more question,” He said, still maintaining his euphoric expression. “What’s  _ your _ name? After all, if you are going to start calling me by my name, it’s only fair that I call you by yours.”

Rayla’s heart froze. Was she really going to let her prisoner, a  _ human _ prisoner at that, know her name? Looking into his now vibrant green eyes, she knew she didn’t have the heart not to tell him. Rayla caved and gave him a soft smile. “Rayla,” She said, lightly chuckling at the absurd circumstance she put herself in. “My name is  _ Rayla _ .”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg omg rayla called callum by his name??? in the THIRD chapter? idk about this, this might be moving to fast. it should have been 10 chapters to know each other's names :)
> 
> anyways, i was sooooo debating adding the 'one sleeping bag', and 'needed warmth' trope, but decided that it was too soon. they made good progress this chapter! callum completely, sort of erased his prejudices for elves after seeing rayla crying. rayla doesn't really but at least she calls callum by his name!!
> 
> anyways anyways, next chapter will most likely be same length or longer, so don't expect an update for a few days. i hope yall are handling quarantine well, school is almost done for me so i'll definitely be writing more.
> 
> anyways anyways anyways, comment comment comment :))))))))))))


	4. Elves are Strong, Humans are Weak

_ Elves are strong, humans are weak _ . 

The mantra was drilled into her head since she was a kid. Elves, unlike humans, had a sense of belonging in the world around them through their individual arcanum. With this partnership in magic and its relationship with everyday life, elves were more prone to help one another and work towards the common good of their people. 

Quite literally, they were  _ born _ with greatness inside of them. This blessed, innate quality that elves possessed was not found in humans. With the lack of this natural  _ power _ that elves are born obtaining, humans from birth are subordinate compared to them. Despite this clear distinction, they simply couldn’t let the natural order reflect itself in the world.

Instead, they attempt to obtain power through theft, and murder -- a true reflection of their inner character. With their lack of strength, they  _ steal _ from innocent lives, in order to generate their false illusion of “magic” and power. 

Even when they were exiled from Xadia, the human kingdoms fought against  _ each other _ for centuries, for petty economic advantages. Just like they see magical life as disposable for their own selfish gain in dark magic, they view human lives as expendable in the pursuit of economic prosperity. 

These were the lessons that Rayla and all elves were taught. Whether it was directly through their education, or through parental guidance, a deep-seeded hatred for humans was planted inside of them. 

Rayla could only assume that Callum had similar teachings where it came to elves. Despite this, he believed that elves weren’t  _ lesser _ than humans, which was all the more astonishing given his situation as a prisoner. Did  _ she _ still hold her values taught to her as a kid? 

The unrelenting rays of the sun disrupted Ralya’s thoughts, as she was quickly reminded of their current situation. They were making great progress towards reaching the breach. Seven days in, and they passed the mountain ranges, which wasn’t too shabby. There were, however, slight complications.

The original plan was for Rayla  _ and _ her team to transport the princes into Xadian land. With her team out of the picture, she didn’t have enough supplies left to sustain her mission for herself and the human. The prince  _ desperately _ needed a sleeping bag, or at the very least blankets. Once they passed the breach, they would need to traverse through an unforgiving tundra -- and a lack of a sleeping bag would be certain death for the human. 

She also only had  _ one _ waterskin, and she quickly found out that the prince -- or  _ Callum _ , most likely due to his lack of exercise in his life, drank water in quite large portions. There would be times where a river would be far off of their course, and water seemed to be a desperately essential item for his well being.

It was inevitable, really, that they would need to restock on supplies. She was hoping that they could make it into Xadia, for she could easily play off the presence of a human by stating her mission. In human towns, it would be much more complicated. She couldn’t just leave him tied to a tree, for the possibility of civilians discovering him, although low, would jeopardize the mission.

Rayla groaned. Rubbing her temple, she looked outwards to the faint sight of buildings, and walls.  _ I’ll have to bring Callum with me, _ Rayla thought to herself. 

Feigning her species was a monumental task on its own, but to bring her  _ prisoner to _ a heavily populated area where communicating with others would be inevitable? That was an  _ astronomically  _ challenging feat. 

Rayla took a side glance at the prince. He didn’t seem necessarily unhappy, and was certainly less gloomy prior to the news regarding his brother -- but he didn’t necessarily look happy. That was fair, given he was a prisoner being forcibly required to travel with an  _ elf.  _ “Hey,  _ Callum _ . We’re going into town for supplies needed for the remainder of our trip,” Rayla said, tilting her head toward the faint town.

Hearing that, Callum’s eyebrows rose. Seeing the prince looking visibly confused about the implications of the trip, she continued. “You’ll come with me, but you’re going to be holding onto my hand for the entirety of the trip,” Rayla stated, pausing to stare into the prince’s eyes. “You will in  _ no _ circumstance speak to anyone. Do you understand?”

Callum could only maintain eye contact for a brief moment against Rayla’s hardened glare, before he looked down to his shoes. “Yeah, got it.”

This was a golden opportunity for Callum. He very much doubted that visiting a  _ human _ town was in Rayla’s original plan in bringing him to Xadia. This was land left unexplored, a scenario entirely  _ not  _ accounted for. If there was going to be a time to escape, it would have to be today.

Callum roughly knew where they were located geographically. They passed through Mount Esper presumably, meaning that the town they would be heading towards was most likely Cranston. Past Cranston, the breach was close, meaning opportunities to escape would be increasingly rare as time passed.

Cranston was a town Callum was well-versed about. It often was a magnet for conversation among the castle. Being near the breach, its main ‘purpose’ was rehabilitating injured soldiers, supposedly acting as an military base. Despite its original intent during its original construction decades ago, the town held a substantial civilian population. This was what made Cranston such a hot topic in the walls of the castle. 

It wasn’t formally recognized as a town. In fact, to this day, it is still under law considered a military base. This means that the civilians living in the supposed ‘military base’, were exempt from government assistance. King Harrow implored the citizens to relocate to other neighboring towns in Katolis, yet many refused to budge. Trade was restricted soon after as a means to re-establish its purpose as military-oriented, yet this came with a cost. Unintentionally, Cranston became a tax haven, with mercenaries, criminals, and outcasts choosing to live their life exempt from taxes, and government intervention. 

Although it still is primarily a town for injured soldiers, it has quickly become notoriously known for its crime, and poverty rate. Callum frowned at the distant site of it. It had been perhaps King Harrow’s largest mistakes during his reign. It wasn’t until recently that he had pledged fiscal action in reinventing the town. Now, with presumably dead, the town remained a mistake -- a mistake that would have been  _ fixed. _

-

Normally, Katolian cities and towns were gated off, typically overlooked by a few soldiers. This, however, wasn’t a  _ typical _ town. The gates had been all but demolished, with rusted nails from its interior dispersed among the cobblestone pavement. Callum, eyeing the entrance to the town with distaste, felt his hand being grasped. Instinctually, Callum flinched, but after looking at Rayla’s stone-cold stare, he quickly re-grabbed her hand. 

As they walked through the ‘entrance’, Callum noticed Rayla eyeing the town’s state with what seemed to be disgust in her eyes. “Our towns aren’t normally… this out of shape,” Callum said, aware of her silent scrutiny. 

Looking down at her gloved hands, Callum would have been confident that Ralya would look like an outsider, especially with her wearing a full-body cloak. An outsider receives more attention, and thus escaping by means of someone else would be more probable. 

Unfortunately, Cranston was a town of misfits.  _ No one _ seemed to care about her unusual attire, for the population themselves were the antithesis of the status quo. Out of the corner of his eyes, Callum observed a glaringly obvious exchange of illegal substances, which occurred in the  _ middle _ of a sidewalk. The town itself wasn’t that large, yet its interior was filled to the brim with housing. The amount of space between each housing unit was as wide as himself, with numerous houses being as run-down as the entrance door. 

Instead of flowers, and gardens outside of homes, broken glass was the apparent substitute. A substantial amount of them had torn-apart windows, or exterior damage that took the shapes of missing areas in the walls, or graffiti splattered among the bricks. 

The graffiti was perhaps the most common sight among the homes, and throughout the city. It became glaringly apparent that the graffiti was used primarily to push a message. Perhaps its intent was to be seen by any passing by travelers, or towards the Katolian royals. Regardless, the messages were crystal clear. The graffiti on the buildings were all the same line, but delivered in different formats:  _ Enough is enough.  _ **_End_ ** _ it.  _

Rayla seemed to take note of these messages, even directing Callum towards a piece of graffiti on the ground. Unlike the many instances of graffiti scrawled across buildings, the graffiti Ralya turned him towards wasn’t text. Instead, what laid in front of him, were outlines of bodies -- each with an ‘X’ in replacement of eyes. Each body held the same dimension, and were neatly lined up in four different rows. The total count of them was hard to determine. The bodies went on for as far as the eye could see, but Callum noticed a line of words above all of them. It read: “Every day, for 1,000 days”. 

It took Callum a while to piece together the meaning, until realization dawned upon him. The war between Xadia and the human kingdoms was started roughly a thousand years ago, following their banishment. Could these dead bodies be a representation of war-related deaths? 

Scanning the white-outlined bodies, Callum began to feel nauseous. He always knew, or  _ thought _ he knew the number of people losing their lives to the war was significant. Being in the castle, he was sort of dissonant from the physical manifestation of the war’s fatalities. Now, standing in a town with its citizens being primarily soldiers, laid the lives lost everyday. They were  _ just _ outlines, yet to Callum, he could imagine their flesh, their emotions, and their loved ones. All stripped from a thousand year long war.

It was  _ sickening _ . Callum was forced to look away from the outlines after his legs began to wobble. Taking a quick glance at Rayla, she seemed to have figured out the meaning behind the bodies. With a tug on his hand, she led him deeper into the town. Before continuing, Callum looked back at the bodies once more, and shuddered. 

-

Rayla was well aware of the costs of war. Being an assassin, she was taught about the casualties her elven tribes have faced protecting their homefront, and heard the stories of failed, or compromised missions. 

That being said, when she realized what the outlined bodies were depicting, her immediate reaction was to see how  _ Callum _ would react. After all, he was a prince, and presumably had no direct contact with soldiers or warfare in his privileged status. She observed his face turn a sickly pale, and soon after his knees were visibly trembling. Knowing that it was better  _ not _ to make a scene in public, she tightened her grip around his hand and directed them towards the town’s supposed business sector. 

She felt a slight pang of sympathy for the prince, noticing him looking back at the graffiti. Seeing the direct effects of warfare on people,  _ his _ people, couldn’t be easy. Forcibly, she pushed her feelings of pity down when she spotted a shop of sorts in the distance. 

As Ralya tightened her grip on Callum’s hand while walking in, she noticed the store’s interior was nowhere near as beaten down as the exterior. The walls were splintered, and hearing droplets of water hitting the ground, she noticed a leak in the ceiling. Besides that, the store was quite tidy in its organization. 

It took Ralya no time at all to find the items she was looking for. Pleased, she grabbed her bag, and dug out the human coins she was forced to carry during their trek into Xadia. Runaan’s reasoning was that  _ one could not be too prepared _ . Grateful for Runaan’s preparedness, she placed her items on the counter behind the only worker in the store. 

Ralya wasn’t particularly hell-bent on speaking, given her accent being foreign to any humans. So, without any exchange of words, she placed what she thought would be an acceptable amount of coins on the counter. Without so much of a peak toward his customer, the store owner accepted Rayla’s payment and nodded toward the exit on the left. 

All things considered, Rayla was delighted on the trip’s success. No one in the town seemed to judge Rayla for her atypical attire, and the store held all desired goods Rayla sought after. Hoisting the sleeping bag and blankets in one arm, she handed Callum the waterskins and headed out the door. 

Although Callum had insisted that the town didn’t accurately reflect other towns in his kingdom, she couldn’t help but judge it. Towns, and cities in Xadia were well maintained, with little-to-no trash or litter lingering on its streets. For the most part, elves maintained as much of a relationship with nature as possible; meaning that the towns were built  _ around _ wildlife, not in replacement of it. 

While looking around, the smell of the human town was horrendous, even making Rayla pinch the top of her nose until she passed that particular scent. All around her, there were piles of trash and discarded items laying about -- did they even  _ care _ about their own community? 

Scoffing to herself, she noticed that Callum had stopped walking. Glancing over to him, she looked to where his line of sight was leading towards. There, in an alley to the right of them, seemed to be a man and a young boy. 

Callum started pulling her towards the alley, seeming to remember her specific instructions on holding onto her hand. At that point, Rayla should have turned him back to their original path. Perhaps she was in a lightened mood due to their successful trip, or maybe she was  _ curious  _ why Callum wanted to go over there, but Rayla made no attempt to prevent the prince from walking towards the alley.

Looking at Callum, she noticed his face was contorted into a worrisome look, with his eyebrows scrunched at the sight ahead. Quickly, it became clear why Callum’s face was filled with worry. The boy that Ralya made out earlier, was clearly not related to, or acquaintances with the man in front of him. The man, now observably middle-aged, something the kid was holding in his hand.

Rayla tightened her hold on Callum. “Callum, we’re leaving now. Understand?” Rayla said, turning to face the prince. 

Attempting to turn Callum away, it was to no avail. Something sparked in Callum’s eyes at that moment. Whether it was anger or worry, he sprinted towards the alley, entirely escaping Rayla’s tightened hold on him. 

Without hesitation, Rayla dropped the equipment on the pavement and ran after him. Nearing the alley, it became clear why Callum had run towards the scene. The boy was now on the floor, with the man reaching towards his chest. Rayla was fast,  _ much  _ faster than the human prince who had seemingly no past in physical exercise, but it wasn’t enough. Callum reached the man before Rayla, and time seemed to move in slow motion.

Callum sloppily tackled the man down to his feet, all while yelling at the kid to get out of the alley. Unsurprisingly, the built middle-aged man easily pushed the young prince off of himself like he was weightless, and immediately landed a swift punch to his gut.

Callum recoiled at the hit, falling down to the pavement with a loud  _ thud _ , and didn’t show any signs of getting back up. The man, however, wasn’t prepared for a  _ moon shadow elf assassin  _ behind him. 

With a quick sweep to his legs, the man fell backward into the cobblestone alley. His head took the brunt of the falling, rendering him disoriented for a moment. Rayla, however, moved quickly. Pulling one of her blades from her cloak, she raised the blunt side of it and struck it against the man’s forehead in one forceful swing before he had the chance to retaliate. 

With the man now unconscious, she crouched down towards Callum, his face visibly distorted in pain. “Are you okay?” Rayla asked, slightly worried at the sight of the hunched over prince. 

His response was a muffled groan, which she took as a resounding  _ no _ . Still being too soon to be mad at him for running off, she managed to let out a chuckle. “What exactly  _ was _ your plan? Take down a man twice your size with a clumsy tackle?”

Once again, Callum’s only response was a groan masked with pain. Out of the corner of her eyes, Rayla saw a small boy’s head peek out beside a garbage can. Warily, the boy walked towards the bent over prince, still clutching his stomach like it was a lifeline. In his hands, was a leather wallet of sorts. Kneeling his small legs down, the boy opened the wallet, and dumped its contents into his palm. 

“Thanks for, y’know, helping me,” The boy let out, still shaken over the entire ordeal. “Take them,” The kid said softly, holding out his hands containing the coins. “As a way of saying thanks.”

She didn’t know how he did it, but Callum managed to let out a half-smile at the sight of the kid, and release his hands from his stomach. “I’m  _ fine _ . You should go back to your home and keep that safe,” He replied kindly, staring softly into the kid’s eyes. 

The boy didn’t seem to be too set out on arguing with Callum, which made sense observing his run-down clothes. Nodding, the boy offered his thanks once more, before scurrying into the alley passed the unconscious man. 

Rayla extended her hand towards Callum. “What you did, was  _ stupid, _ ” Rayla said, with no malice in her voice. “ _ Brave,  _ but stupid regardless.”

At that, Callum accepted her hand and slowly pulled himself up. Still cringing at his pains, Callum managed to form a lopsided smile. “Thanks for saving me. Even if it only meant your prisoner wasn’t delivered dead,” Callum replied, taking a quick look back at the scene. 

Ralya softly chuckled. As she started walking towards the town exit, matching Callum’s limping pace, her brain froze.  _ Elves are strong, humans are weak.  _ Remembering the mantra she thought about in the morning, she began to feel light-headed. 

Today, she saw the nastiness of humanity in her own eyes. The run-down city struck with poverty, and the greed of a middle-aged  _ robber _ attempting to steal from a mere helpless child. In spite of this, she also witnessed two unmistakable instances of human s _ trength _ , and compassion.

Sure, Callum was  _ weak _ in the sense of his failures in defeating the man in a fight. Yet Callum didn’t seem like an idiot, he must have known he was no match for the man. Despite the likelihood of himself laying on the pavement bloodied up, Callum nonetheless put himself between the man and the boy in an act of  _ sacrifice _ . If that wasn’t  _ strong,  _ then what was? 

Rayla stared at Callum with a bit of awe. Without knowing the boy, he risked his  _ life _ for his protection.  _ Brave _ wouldn’t begin to describe the nature of his act. 

_ Elves are strong, humans are weak. _

Callum was  _ strong.  _ t here was no description of his act of sacrifice that didn’t depict  _ strength _ . 

Additionally, the boy who was clearly poverty-stricken, offered all of his money to Callum as a token of  _ gratitude _ . 

Now passed the exit of the town, Rayla turned around to take a good look at it before departing. The town’s name was spelled out in a wooden sign that had nearly been defaced entirely. Rayla had seen firsthand the ugliness of humanity in forms of the town’s current state, and in an act of utter greed and evil. Yet, the mantra that she had previously believed with resounding confidence, no longer seemed to be quite as accurate.

Because despite the nastiness of humans she had discovered in the town of Cranston, Rayla had witnessed an act of sheer strength and compassion. Glancing once more at the limping prince, Rayla felt dizzy at her realization. 

Humans can be weak, yet looking at Callum, she wouldn’t describe him in any words besides  _ strong.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes! passed the 10k threshold at last! 
> 
> some things to note about the story:   
> callum does NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT have Stockholm's syndrome (a syndrome where an abused victim becomes infatuated with the abuser at hand).
> 
> 1\. rayla doesn't actively abuse callum, so it's not entirely applicable  
> 2\. callum is nottttt infatuated with rayla (yet ;)).
> 
> also: expect the story to make an even larger divergence away from the canon plotline. things are going to get very very wild, and the plot will be drastically different from canon.
> 
> also also: in wake of the protests regarding police brutality, i stand in solidarity to anyone traumatized, or affected by this concurrent issue in our establishment. 
> 
> lastly: all of your comments honestly make my day exponentially better. it's one of the few things that i look forward in this quarantine, i love you all


	5. An Assassin's Dilemna

Being back at the headquarters was surreal, in a way Nevan couldn’t begin to articulate. The halls he grew up in felt  _ cold _ , the walls seemed even more confining than before. 

A few people noticed Nevan’s presence and instantly began to stare. Were they stares of pity or sympathy? Regardless of what they were, his hand reflexively grasped at his side, grabbing nothing but empty space.

The door to the headmaster’s study opened, with four elves conversing with each other among a round table. Each of them wore differing robes, but with the same insignia patched on their chests which depicted the sun, and the moon conjoined together.  _ Eclipse _ , Nevan muttered with disdain. 

The headmaster’s head briefly poked out of the doorway, looking for himself in the hallway of elves. His eyes shot up when he made eye contact with Nevan. “Come Nevan, you are needed.” 

Stepping into the study without…  _ her, _ felt different. Glancing at the headmaster’s desk, he recalled his assignments throughout his five years of active duty. Whether they were assassinations, robbings, or recon missions, they were all given to him in the study. Never had he been alone in this room.  _ She  _ was always next to him.

Nevan wasn’t sure if it were the elves associated with Eclipse or  _ her _ absence, but he felt uneasy with the room’s atmosphere. Just as he was going to break the silence with a question on his summoning, the door was briskly shut with a lock clicking in place soon after. Grimacing, Nevan knew what would unfold. He understood the procedure. 

“Nevan… we have a  _ final  _ task for you,” The headmaster said behind him, walking towards the round table where the other elves sat.

Nevan’s ears perked up at that. Mouth agape, he wondered if he was hallucinating.  _ Did he say final? _ Nevan asked himself. 

The headmaster must have seen his visible confusion, for he elaborated quickly. “Your freedom will be granted upon confirmation that your mission is completed.” The headmaster glanced towards the four elves beside him. “You see… this mission is of top importance and urgency. You were chosen due to your track record, now listen closely to what lays ahead.”

The four elves continued their speculative staring at Nevan, wondering if he could fulfill their task. At last, the one sitting on the side of the table broke the silence. 

Staring into the elve’s eyes, Nevan saw malice in the purest form reflecting in its gray pigment. “There’s a  _ moon shadow elf  _ and a  _ human _ prince…”

-

“You can’t be serious.”

Ever since their visit to Cranston, Callum noticed Rayla starting to open up. It wasn’t much, but she seemed to be less guarded; her eyes no longer held its previously cold, and hardened appearance, and her shoulders were more relaxed. For the past three days, small conversations filled the void of silence during their trek towards Xadia. They started out as small, trivial questions from Callum, normally in relation to their journey. Now, although it wasn’t…  _ normal _ , they conversed regularly. 

Rayla rose one of her eyebrows at him, placing a hand on her hip. “What? Elves don’t  _ use _ money. Is it truly that hard to believe?” Rayla asked, lips quirking upwards a bit.

Callum was fascinated -- to say the least. He had been asking Rayla all sorts of questions about Xaida; how many cities there are, how the government operates, and if all the elves are peaceful with one another. But having no  _ money? _ The idea shocked him to his very core.

“How do you… y’know,  _ buy _ stuff? How do you provide for your family?”

Rayla, surprisingly, seemed just as confused as Callum. “How do  _ humans _ provide for their families?

Callum paused to think. “Well, people do jobs for money. This  _ money _ buys you food, goods, or anything really,” Callum frowned. “My father -- or  _ stepfather _ used to tell me that  _ money was a source of freedom, and the weapon of corruption _ .”

Rayla tensed at the mention of the king. “Moon shadow societies are that of comradeship and closely-knit communities. Our people work together. For each according to their abilities, to each according to their needs.” Rayla explained, smiling a little in the thought of her home. 

“That’s… poetic?” Callum offered, still bewildered that elves don’t use money. 

Rayla rolled her eyes. “I was referring to  _ moon shadow  _ elves. Each race has different customs; thus differing systems in place. All of us, however, are in direct subordination to the royal family.”

Callum’s chest tightened at Rayla’s words. “The dragons?” Callum asked warily, remembering his family’s history with them.

Rayla looked away. “Yeah.”

And just like that, the conversation was over. It was a striking reminder of their positions and the barrier that was between them given their situation. It seemed to be a pattern in their ‘conversations’; they could only go so far until the said barrier prevented them from engaging further. 

They would be hitting the breach by the end of the week. Once they passed, any chance of escape would be next-to-impossible. Not only would he have to  _ cross _ a fortified breach filled with elven forces, but he would have to make sure no one discovered he was human.  _ As a human. _

Walking on the forest floor, Callum couldn’t stop thinking about Ezran. By now, Ezran would most likely be doing duties as the king of Katolis -- and he couldn’t imagine the turmoil inside of him. Like Callum, they had no family left, besides Aunt Amaya who was constantly overseeing Katolian forces at the breach. The only person that could share the grief, and pain Ezran was facing, would soon be in elven territory, hundreds of miles away. 

Callum had hope though. If Ezran was pronounced King, then his top priority would be to negotiate an offer to return himself back to the human lands. Callum smiled. If there was one thing Ezran was, it was  _ determined. _ His efforts to scavenge jelly tarts were masterfully thought out, with escape routes, and distractions for the baker meticulously planned. When Callum was feeling down, Ezran would stop at  _ nothing _ to make him talk about what was troubling him. 

Ezran would make a good king -- even as a kid.

-

“This mission… it’s imperative that it’s completed successfully. If what the stars are telling me is true, then the  _ boy _ and the  _ moon shadow assassin _ pose a legitimate threat to the status of the war.” 

The noise was muffled as Nevan put his ears to the wall, but still barely audible. It was not the first time he eavesdropped to obtain the background information regarding his assignments. Normally, it would have been  _ Arya _ that would do the listening, while he would stand watch. The gardens were directly adjacent to the headmaster’s study hall, making it the designated spot for eavesdropping.

Why would his mission be a determinate of the war? More importantly, why would  _ Eclipse  _ have an interest in the war’s status? 

An elf with a low, booming voice continued. “Once the boy completes the task, dispose of him accordingly,” he said, “there will be  _ no _ evidence regarding our connections with this incident. The boy would be too much of a loose-end.”

Nevan’s heart stopped at the mention of his name but continued beating shortly after. He wasn’t nearly as surprised as he should have been. Being in this field, betrayals were seen as a normal occurrence in their life.

There was a brief silence that followed, meaning that the headmaster was in thought. After a while, he asked, “Did you think I would even consider him to stay alive after hearing the details of the assignment? There’s a reason why I told him it would be his  _ final _ mission.”

What would have been a life-altering discovery before, was now more of a confirmation. Nevan simply walked away from the building and slipped into the shadows given by the forest. He had his suspicions, with Arya, that no one would truly be  _ free _ . Time and time again, he saw people disappear, or go missing after one of their tasks. 

It was almost relieving, to finally know the truth. All of it, all of the people under the headmaster’s control -- they are all prisoners. 

This was the breaking point. This confirmation to his suspicions set Nevan loose. He wouldn’t follow through with the mission. Pausing to think, he sat down on a tree stump and reflected over his options. 

He could run. Put as much distance between himself and the headquarters, and try and live a life of solitude, isolated from society. Bitterly, Nevan let out a laugh at that thought. Would that even be living? Constantly checking your back, refusing to get close to someone in fear of their safety. It was all perfectly clear. As soon as he was taken from the orphanage, and selected for the headmaster’s team, his life was written for him. 

The feeling of entrapment before felt  _ lighter _ , and less  _ significant _ with Arya. With her presence by his side, he felt invincible to whatever fate laid ahead of him. They even contemplated their future together often, hoping that their  _ final _ mission would be sooner rather than later. 

Pushing his hands through his darkened hair, Nevan recounted their last moment together.

_ “Don’t close your eyes Ar, you’re going to be fine” Nevan said, cradling her head carefully in his right hand. _

_ Eyes and face contorted in pain, Arya stopped focusing on her wounds and looked to her friend. As if she knew her fate, she ignored the gash at her chest, and let out one of her classic lopsided smiles.  _

_ “Nevan, you and I both know that’s a lie,” She said, reaching her hand to brush Nevan’s tear-stricken face with her thumb.  _

_ Nevan, seeing his companion of ten years on death’s door, let go of his composure. At once, like a broken down dam in a flood, his cries were unleashed. It was violent and angry, as he looked up to the sky as if he was asking the universe; “Why?”  _

_ “Hey, is my face that repulsive that you can’t look at me?” Arya asked teasingly, softly gripping his head to look at her. “Do you remember our plans to live on an island?” _

_ Nevan let out a choked laugh. “An island with unlimited amounts of moon berries if I recall.” _

_ Smiling, Arya’s eyes began to flutter. “An island where we would be free. Where we could be children.” _

_ Tears falling uncontrollably from Nevan’s eyes, he pushed a strand of silver hair out of Arya’s face. “Please don’t leave me,” Nevan whispered, “please…” _

_ Arya’s eyes now closed entirely, she whispered her last words. “Do you think if there was no war, we would meet each other in a market? Be friends at school?” _

_ At that, Arya’s eyes drifted backward; her lips twisted in a faint smile. _

Tears cascading down Nevan’s cheeks, he realized what he would do. The war had stripped everything he ever loved. His family, his childhood, his innocence and youth, and now  _ Arya _ . The war stole his  _ life _ from him. 

With an opportunity to fight back against his enslavement, and the war, it would be something that Arya would not hesitate in pursuing. Pushing himself up, he looked upwards to the moon. 

Neither would he.

-

As much as it felt weird to admit, Callum  _ enjoyed _ the camping aspect of his imprisonment. Being a prince, the time he spent exploring and venturing outside of the castle’s walls was very limited. The annual winter trip was the farthest Callum lived away from the castle, and even then, the scenery was familiarized throughout the years.

They were situated on top of a shaded hill, covered by pine trees all around them. The sun was setting, releasing a vibrant orange hue across the miles of trees. The scent of pine added to the moment, combining with the scenery to alleviate Callum’s worries. At that moment, he was at peace.

Rayla, tending the fire with a close eye to prevent a forest-fire, glanced towards Callum overlooking the forest. His features were illuminated by the setting sun, with his green eyes glimmering in a way she hasn’t quite seen before. His lips were curved upwards in a content smile as he took a deep breath. 

She couldn’t help but smile at the prince’s expression. Callum certainly was an interesting human -- no,  _ person.  _ To be at peace in a situation like his, was remarkable, and his interference with the robber at Cranston, alongside his seeming benevolence towards elves made him, well, a  _ good _ person. 

Rayla’s heart felt a slight tug at its core.  _ A good person that would spend his life in prison _ . 

Ignoring the twinge of guilt in her chest, Ralya noticed the prince’s sketchbook he frequently immersed himself in. It was left open, with a recent project in the works. Curiosity taking the better of her, she walked towards the book and studied his recent illustration.

It was a shaded illustration of a sphere. The sphere’s contents held what seemed to be clouds, with a faint sight of lightning. Even a drawing as seemingly simple as the one that laid before her held careful craftsmanship and artistry. The lines and shading were all masterfully incorporated;  _ he’s talented _ she thought to herself.

It took her a while, but something clicked in her head.  _ That’s a primal stone _ , she thought to herself. How would Callum, a human, have seen such a rare, magical artifact? 

Curiosity now at its peak, she walked over to Callum’s spot on the hill and sat next to him. If he was disturbed by her closeness, Callum didn’t show it, instead simply glancing back to the auburn trees.

“I saw your sketchbook by accident,” Rayla lied, “and there was a sketch of a primal stone. Do you care to explain?”

Rayla expected Callum to be taken back, or to fumble at her discovery. Instead, he smiled, and looked almost…  _ nostalgic. _ “It was my mom’s -- a gift from our archmage. She observed my fascination with the orb, and opted to tell me about its origins, about magic in general.”

Rayla’s eyes narrowed, and scoffed. “What you do… is not  _ magic _ , it’s an atrocity.”

Instead of harshly correcting her, Callum softened. “You would have gotten along with her. My mom was against dark magic in its entirety. She viewed it as a short-cut that pays its price elsewhere. 

Rayla’s ears drooped upon hearing that. Turning back towards Callum, she noticed his eyes getting misty. “Callum, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed your mother was, well, into dark-magic” Rayla said, resting one of her hands on his shoulder. 

“It’s fine. It’s what hundreds of years of contempt towards each-other causes I guess” He replied, with a bit of edge into his words, his eyes increasingly more misty. “My mom, she couldn’t quite get the hang with the runes available to her. Given my love for art, however, I was able to draw them with relative ease.”

Rayla noticed Callum’s breathing getting shallower and more ragged. He was clearly fighting back tears, noticing his lip being bit with quite a bit of force. She felt an instant pang of guilt at what she indirectly caused, but continued to pry. “Callum, if you don’t mind me asking...” Rayla began, her thumb brushing across his shoulder, “what happened to your mother?” 

Callum’s eyes darkened in a way that was similar to when he spotted the robber attacking the kid in Cranston. His eyes were filled with anger and sorrow. “She was killed.  _ Murdered”  _ Callum muttered, lips beginning to tremble. “By  _ your _ king, by the same type of magic that she taught to me. But that must be different, right? Because  _ taking _ life for dark magic is worse than  _ murdering _ with primal magic” Callum let out, his hands now shaking in his lap. “I broke the primal stone the day after hearing the news. I saw it then as a harsh reminder of her  _ murder _ , but recently I’ve been wistful about it. It was, after all, an item she gave to me and spent months teaching me of its uses and history.”

Rayla’s own eyes widened at Callum’s story, and at the context behind Avizandum’s murder. She was always taught it was an act of pure evil, and another example of humans acting on their false-illusion of power. Hearing this made her insides twist… and made her  _ angry.  _ Angry that she never heard the reasoning behind Avizandum’s murder -- not that it justified it in any capacity. “Callum, I’m truly sorr--”

“And don’t take it that I thought the killing of your king was  _ right. _ If my dad didn’t act on his vengeance, then he would still be alive today” Callum said, turning to face Rayla, his eyes brimming in wetness. “I wish this cycle would be over. And now, after this war had taken my mom, and my dad, I might not be able to see my brother again because of it.”

Rayla grabbed his hand before she even realized it. She related to him, she realized. The war, one way or another, put her on the path she had taken. A path of redemption from her parent’s failures, a path of  _ killing _ in the name of the greater good. It deprived her from her childhood, and from any normalcy in her life. Looking into Callum’s eyes, she felt  _ sorry.  _ Sorry that their lives had been uprooted by an age-old conflict, she felt  _ sorry  _ that they were in their position in the first place. 

The rest of the night moved in tranquil silence, the two of them choosing to sleep sooner rather than later. Before Rayla was swept into a deep slumber, she smiled at the sight of the sleeping prince curled into himself.  _ It’s remarkable how much we have in common _ , she thought to herself, soon after drifting off in a blissful sleep.   
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dagor, if you're reading this, then you are the reason I have chosen to re-read the inheritance cycle from start to finish. rip all of my remaining assignments due at the end of the week. :)
> 
> on a more serious note: this chapter was highkey a filler chapter, but was much needed. it was shorter than I anticipated, but I promise the chapters in the future will be around 4-5k words apiece. 
> 
> i hope you all are having a great week so far, reading these comments are the highlight of my existence. that and re-reading a decade-old fantasy series. lol.
> 
> p.s i totally named arya after arya from the inheritance cycle. what have you done to me dagor, what have you done


	6. Crossing the Border

The sight of a dragon in-person to Callum, was, for lack of better words, both terrifying and incredible. 

Its wings spanned across hundreds of feet of rock, holding a fiery red tint that was mesmerizing to look at. Its talons were nearly as big as Callum’s entire body, and each breath it took sent a gust of air through its flared nostrils. 

Any rational, sane human being would be petrified, and intimidated by the sight of a dragon -- a large one at that, but Callum, the artist as he is, stood and observed with awe-struck eyes. Callum scanned its entire body until he saw his eyes, or, lack thereof. Where its eyes should have been, were instead substituted with a sickly, dried paste-like substance that covered a large portion of his face. As if the dragon could see Callum’s observation, he bared his teeth towards him, revealing white daggers as long as planks, and then looked in another direction.

Callum suddenly shivered, feeling a warm, tingling breath in his ear. “That, my friend, is  _ Sol Regem,  _ previous dragon king of Xadia.” Rayla whispered, wanting the ex-dragon king to not intrude in their conversation. 

Callum’s reflexively turned a slight shade of pink at Rayla’s close proximity with his face. “W-what’s with his face?” He let out, still feeling Rayla’s warm breath against his ear. 

Hearing Rayla’s tone of voice, Callum could tell without even looking at the elf, that she held a grim expression. “He was blinded by a dark mage.” Her voice was filled with disgust and contempt, presumably due to the topic of dark magic.

Callum winced at the cause of the dragon’s blindness. “So, I assume he’s not on the best terms with humans?” 

Rayla then lightly grabbed Callum’s chin and tilted it so he was facing her, and not the dragon. “As much as Sol Regem despises humans, he wouldn’t dare to compromise a mission on behalf of Zubeia herself.”

Once again, Callum felt his face instinctually warm at Rayla’s cold hand grasping his chin.  _ What is wrong with me, _ he thought. 

Thankfully, the dragon king prevented any additional awkwardness from transpiring, for his patience wore out. “When you first crossed, there were  _ six _ of you. I was told that there would be  _ six _ of you returning, with  _ two  _ princes” The dragon bellowed, his deep voice echoing across the canyon. 

Rayla parted ways with Callum and walked confidently in front of the towering dragon. “Your majesty, the mission faced its fair share of undesired events. Now, as you said, it is only me with  _ one _ prince of Katolis.

At the mention of him, the dragon turned its head from Rayla, and leaned towards Callum. Inching closer to Callum’s petrified face, the dragon took a large inhale of his scent, before recoiling slightly. “ _ Interesting” _ He muttered, before moving his head between Rayla and himself. “You may pass,  _ Rayla _ of the Silvergrove. I hope no  _ undesired events _ will come about your journey.”

Tentatively, Rayla walked pass Sol Regem’s position and motioned towards Callum to follow. As if the dragon had no impairment to his eyesight, his face tracked Callum’s when he walked. He looked smug, yet almost  _ curious _ with his head tilted slightly to the right. 

It wasn’t until they took a step outside of the canyon, where Callum let out a relieved sigh. Then, chuckling to himself, he said, “A little bit closer to my prison!”

Callum expected Rayla to chuckle herself, for she had become acquainted with his rye humor during their trip. Instead, there was a deafening silence that followed Callum’s remark. Turning his head to see what was wrong, he noticed her features were on-edge. Her shoulders were tense, and her ears were tilted upwards, indicating that she was worried, or anticipating something. 

Their surroundings were that of a peculiar forest. The trees held a darker hue and were taller than the ones found in Katolis -- each separated from one another in much larger spaces. The more noticeable difference being the absence of noise. Forests in Katolis were always abundant in that sense, with birds communicating in their  _ chirps _ , animals scampering along the forest floor, or a concurrent sound of a stream nearby. 

Callum continued walking, his boots crunching against the dirt sounding off-putting, for its sound reverberated within the forest, breaking the eerie silence in each step. It felt ominous, almost as if the forest was watching their every movement. Looking behind him to see if Rayla was feeling the same way, she abruptly stopped walking and swiftly turned towards her right. 

Her hands were hovering over her swords, as she peered into the assortment of tall, darkened trees. Upon further inspection, she was maintaining her stare at the tree a few yards from her, and not scanning the forest like he was. Slowly, she detached her two swords from her waist but chose to not activate their blades. Like a trained huntress, she slowly crept towards the tree; the only noise heard was Callum’s quickened heartbeat. 

Callum’s confusion was masked heavily by his fear.  _ What was behind that tree? Was it a Xadian, four-headed monster? Was it another elf? _ Callum’s mind went into overdrive as Rayla neared the tree. Just as he was going to say something, in a split of a second, Rayla activated her blades and swung around the tree, ready to attack whatever lurked behind it. 

An unfamiliar voice echoed behind it. “Can you put down those swords? I’m not here to harm you.” Ralya’s body became obscured by the tree, as she advanced forward with her swords.

Curious, Callum approached the tree cautiously, until the voice in question was finally revealed. Callum’s eyes widened. On the ground, with a sword pressed dangerously against his chest, was what appeared to be a skywing elf. Callum saw illustrations of them in books, but seeing wings attached to a body in plain sight, was surreal. The wings were lined with feathers, all holding the same brownish color to them. 

“Who are you, and why have you been following us?” Asked Rayla, her eyes narrowing down at the elf. 

Despite the dire situation, Callum couldn’t help but release a small chuckle.  _ This was the exact scenario that played out weeks ago _ , he thought to himself. 

The skywing elf looked towards the assassin, but his eyes showed no fear. Then, having spotted Callum peek at what was occurring, his eyes darted to his open hands, and  _ he  _ narrowed his eyes. “Why isn’t your prisoner’s hands bound?”

Rayla, not surprisingly, didn’t take the question too well. “How do you know he’s a prisoner?  _ Who _ do you work for?” She asked, applying more pressure to the elf’s chest. 

\------

Nevan was in for it.  _ Way to make first impressions, _ he glumly thought to himself. Seemed that Arya was correct all along, for she constantly joked that he wasn’t so much of a social butterfly. 

Taking a deep breath, Nevan began to explain the situation. The entire ordeal must have only took a few minutes, but with the unwavering stare from the girl, the time spent explaining felt as if it was an eternity. 

When he finally finished, he looked between the elf and the human, looking for any sign of understanding or trust. The human, a tad bit shorter than the elf, didn’t seem to be too wavered or suspicious. In fact, he was eyeing him with what looked to be curiosity in his eyes. 

The assassin, on the other hand, showed no sign of understanding. He wasn’t surprised, not in the slightest. He was best friends with a moon shadow elf, and their walls were quite hard to knock down. “Look, you have every right to be suspicious, but if I wanted to fulfill my order, I would have done so already. Why would I be attempting a conversation with you?” Nevan said, reaching his hands outwards slowly to move the elf’s blade from his body.

Rayla moved the sword to alleviate some of the pressure on the elf’s chest. “Do you have any weapons on you?”

Nevan shook his head. “I knew that any weaponry would be seen as a threat by you, so no. I am, however, fairly versed with my arcanum.”

The elf, still tense, finally retracted her swords into their holding spots in her waist. Still frowning, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tell me more about  _ Eclipse _ , and why they sent you.”

Frowning at the mention of  _ Eclipse,  _ Nevan pushed himself from the ground and dusted his hands on his legs. “It’s a long story, but I’ll attempt to summarize it the best that I can.” 

The elf nodded, and motioned towards the human to begin walking again in front of them. Nevan tilted his head at the sight. “The name is Nevan, by the way. Could I get both of yours?”

The human, at that, turned around and smirked. “It took me days to get to know her name, so I’d get used to calling her by vague pronouns.” 

Nevan, once again was perplexed by the dynamic between the two. He did know he was held captive, right? 

The elf, hands still hovering dangerously near her swords, let out a half-smile at the human’s jab. “I’m  _ Rayla,  _ and this sack of flour of a human is  _ Callum. _ ” She said, eyes tracking the back of Callum’s neck. “He’s oddly optimistic given his… circumstance. He’s not like most humans... or the description of them that I grew up hating” Rayla whispered, her eyes holding a rather fond expression. 

Nevan was certainly amused by the seeming benevolence between the two, given their situation. Her kind words pertaining to the human’s character were what put him off the most. “Well, Rayla and Callum… the  _ order _ I spoke of earlier, that enslaves talented elves at a young age and trains them to be capable weapons, works with  _ Eclipse _ often.” Nevan paused and grimaced. “It was common knowledge, that if you ever were sent on a mission sponsored by  _ Eclipse _ , that you would return a killer. Some of the jobs the  _ order  _ sent us on were non-violent, but  _ Eclipse _ sent to kill. Both humans, and  _ elves _ , their motives are always secretive.”

Rayla, after hearing that, turned to face him. “You told me earlier that you were sent as an assassin. Who was your target?” 

“I was sent, by  _ Eclipse,  _ to kill you, Rayla.” Nevan grimly replied. 

Nevan could practically hear the short-circuiting inside Rayla’s head. “Why would they want to kill me? An  _ elf? _ My team was sent by the royal family themselves, just  _ what  _ is this Eclipse organization?”

Both Callum and Rayla were now turned to face him, eagerly awaiting a response. Nevan let out a sigh while rubbing his face. “Explaining what  _ Eclipse _ is, would be impossible. The organization is veiled in secrecy, but we know its leaders or  _ representatives _ . There are a total of six; each of them being a representative of their race, and thus their land. It is believed that they are aristocrats that hold immense power through their wealth, but their exact intentions are always unclear when they gave us our assignments… until a few nights ago.”

Nevan paused, recollecting what he heard after his assignment briefing. “They remarked that your mission, handing over the prince of Kaotlis, puts the status of the war in an  _ undesirable _ position. Seeing that they wanted to  _ stop _ the delivery of Callum, it would mean that they intend to prolong the war.” Nevan looked away suddenly, feeling a gaping pit inside of emptiness inside of him.  _ The war that caused his, and Arya’s position to begin with,  _ he bitterly thought to himself. 

Rayla felt as if she was punched in the gut. Why would  _ anyone _ wish to continue the war? What would they gain from it? More importantly, these were  _ elves _ that ordered her assassination. Whenever war was discussed in Xadia, it was a universal truth that human’s pigheadedness refused them to cease fighting -- and instead wish to drag out the war for all eternity. 

Rayla spoke slowly, and tentatively, as if any more responses regarding Eclipse would set her askew from reality. “How does me, and handing Callum over to Zubeia hold any relevance in the war?”

“The  _ leaders _ of Katolis, the most powerful nation in the human kingdom, would be willing to negotiate for their bloodline. Zubeia, in all of her wisdom, must have known this, and knowing her longing for the war to come to an end, a trade for her  _ son  _ and Katolis’s bloodline would be the first step for peace.” Nevan replied, observing a flash of hope in Callum’s expression. 

Rayla was dumbfounded. When she was briefed on her first assassination mission with her team, she was told that it would be an act of vengeance, and  _ justice.  _ At the same time, Zubeia was looking for a pathway to peace? 

However, Rayla saw a flaw in the dragon queen’s plan. “What if the humans won’t hand the stolen egg for Callum?” Rayla retorted, stealing a glance at a surprisingly smiley prince.

  
“Rayla, the king would be my  _ brother _ . It would be the first thing he would act on, knowing him” Callum said, smiling at the thought of Ezran’s iron-will.

Nevan grunted in thought. “Eclipse has connections in the human kingdom -- that must be assumed. They must know your brother’s intentions to get you free, which is why they sent an assassin to prevent it.”

Rayla narrowed her eyes at Nevan. “Just how long will we have before your  _ order _ sends assassins to finish the job?”

Nevan grimaced upon recalling the order’s protocol. “If the individual doesn’t return with conformation in five days, then they are presumed dead, and more people are sent. Knowing Eclipse’s longing for the mission’s success, this protocol could be shifted” Nevan replied, frowning at the thought of fighting the people he lived with.

Just as Nevan promised earlier, the explanation of Eclipse took hours. The sun was now setting, with streams of orange light seeping through the branches, contrasting against the darkened bark of the trees. 

Rayla, knowing that they would have to hunt for an additional stomach, told the newly founded trio that they would be stopping for the day. 

\------

Despite having a new member in their group, any conversation seemed to end once the fire started. Nevan, for the most part, kept to himself, secluded from herself and Callum. What he was thinking, was hard to interpret, given his fixed, glossy gaze into the campfire. He seemed to be in an entirely different reality, staring intently at the bed of coals and absentmindedly rubbing his wrists.

The dinner, like the rest of them, had been tasteless meat. Rayla wasn’t the type to complain, but if she would have to force down another  _ dry _ rabbit, she was sure she would turn insane. 

Callum didn’t seem to show any signs of discomfort eating the rabbit, but she still felt guilty in their culinary options. Her team held different spices in their bags, making their meals to the human lands more bearable and somewhat enjoyable. The only spice they held seemed to be the char of their meat from their typically uncontrolled fire. Nor did they have pots, or pans to make soups like her team previously made. 

Once again, Rayla’s thoughts went back to Nevan’s story. Rayla took pride in telling liars apart from others, yet Nevan’s testimony was as seemingly truthful as they came. There wouldn’t be any reason for him to lie, but acknowledging what he said was  _ difficult.  _ She had been attempting to process the information, but continuously chose to distract herself with trivial matters regarding the campsite. 

She would soon be hunted.  _ She, an assassin, will soon be a target for assassination, _ Rayla thought to herself humorously. 

Upon hearing that returning Callum as a prisoner to Zubeia would be a step towards peace between the two species, Rayla immediately wondered how Runaan would react. Runaan, a man whose hatred for humans was as abundant as his own blood, was originally sent for a job that would ease tensions with humans. 

Rayla took a quick glance towards Callum. Per usual, he was immersed within his sketchbook, drawing as if he wasn’t held captive, or hundreds of miles away from his home. Upon presumably messing up, he stuck his tongue out in concentration attempting to amend his mistake. Rayla smiled at the sight. Truthfully, she wanted nothing less than for him to be reunited with his brother, and return home. Life, however, wasn’t that simple. She had a job to do, and by Nevan’s analysis, it was an important one at that. She  _ will _ be successful, and not let anyone else down. 

Nevan, still staring intently at the flames, finally opted to speak. “How long do you reckon it would take to arrive at the Storm Spire?” Nevan asked, briefly looking at Callum sketching, before returning to look into the fire. 

Rayla paused to think. “Around three weeks, if we decide to push it.” 

Nevan frowned. His right hand briefly trembled, before he reached out and grabbed thin air.  _ Odd,  _ Rayla thought to herself. “We’ll be lucky if we go two weeks without seeing my friends. We need to be prepared for the inevitable ambush that will occur” Nevan said, now staring intently at the drawing prince. “The prince needs to be taught how to fight” Nevan decided, reaching for his bag beside him. 

Callum closed his sketchbook and eyed Nevan warily. “I’ve tried sword fighting before… not my forte -- to say the least” Callum sheepishly admitted. 

Nevan didn’t seem to be slightly shocked at Callum’s admission. “You’ve dealt with sky magic before, correct?”

Rayla tilted her head in confusion. How would he know about Callum’s past experience regarding his primal stone?

Seeing both of them confused, Nevan elaborated. “I can sense the sky primal dormant around of you. Not  _ inside _ of you, per se, but its essence radiates around you. I’m presuming you had access to a primal stone back at home?

Callum nodded in conformation. 

Nevan fished through his bag, before pulling a luminescent, glowing orb. Its insides, like Callum’s drawing of his primal stone, was an animated thunderstorm, with stormy clouds covering its circumference. “This isn’t a full-blown primal stone, say, but it is still enough to replicate the sky arcanum, or to enhance one’s arcanum. Overworking oneself with magic can be costly… deadly if one is not careful. Recharging, however, is as easy as touching one of these sources of primal energy for a few hours. It’s why I originally brought it -- as a way to recharge if need be.” Nevan smiled at the energy emitted from its contact with his hands. “You’ll be able to perform the same spells you learned before, but with less power or range than with a regular primal stone. If we’re going to get ambushed, we’ll need  _ all _ the help we can get.”

Callum’s eyes widened as Nevan tossed the orb to him, ungraciously catching it with his help of his chest. Callum too, could feel its energy coursing through the air surrounding himself. He recognized its feeling to when he first held the primal stone. It was as if he, himself, was surrounded by wind currents crashing together in a harmonious display of synchronization. The feeling wasn’t as prevalent as when he held an  _ actual _ primal stone, but he nonetheless was taken back. 

Pressing the orb against his face, he was brought back to his childhood. A time where his mom recited him the mounds of information regarding the sky arcanum, all from a withered old book in the library. A time where he showed Ezran his ability to blow a gust of air, which earned a look of pure astonishment in his brother’s face, and a plea to teach him as well. 

Despite being hundreds of miles away, disconnected between ranges of mountains, forests, and rivers; pressing the miniature primal stone against his face, and relishing its familiar energy and ardor, Callum felt at  _ home. _

\-------

Rayla’s insides turned to mush upon seeing Callum sigh in content with his magical stone. His expression was nothing but serene, as his lips formed a peaceful smile. It wasn’t long his eyes closed, hugging the orb to his chest while maintaining his peaceful countenance.

Despite feeling like a puddle of emotional goo, Rayla couldn’t help but realize how  _ ridiculous _ arming her  _ prisoner  _ would be. Glancing towards Nevan, and seeing that he was awake, idly fiddling with a stick, Rayla walked towards him. 

“Do you really think this is a good idea?  _ Arming _ my prisoner with magical capabilities?” Rayla muttered, making sure Callum didn’t hear their conversation.

Nevan let out a punchable, smug smile. “Does he look like the type to attack? Even if he did, it would be foolish to attempt fighting both of us. Furthermore, he’s in  _ Xadia,  _ what would he do if he escapes? Run back to the border where elven battalions await, or attempt to sneak past the dragon?” Nevan chuckled lightly. “Even he must understand that he is safest with us -- just imagine if another elf spots him by himself.” 

Rayla was comforted by Nevan’s insight. It made sense. Callum wasn’t  _ stupid _ , he knows that escape would be impossible after crossing the border. But would he fight against their inevitable ambushers? Or would he simply stand idly, or take off? 

She nearly laughed, seeing the sheer craze of the situation. Callum, a prisoner, fighting against people that would kill the elves that held him captive? It seemed that the universe was pulling a practical joke of some sort. 

After a few minutes of occasional discussion between the two, a yawn escaped Rayla’s mouth. Grabbing the binding material in her bag, she walked over towards the sleeping prince and gingerly tied his hands and legs together, attempting to be as careful as possible to not awaken him. 

After successfully binding him, she turned to Nevan and smirked. “Your turn, pal.”

Nevan looked offended as if she was questioning his integrity. Rayla rolled her eyes and walked towards him. “We  _ just _ met each other, you can’t be too cautious,” Rayla said, binding Nevan’s wrists and ankles together. 

Nevan grunted in reply, and shifted to lay on his side on the forest floor. After seeing his eyes close, and breathing steady, Rayla immediately escaped into her sleeping bag, smiling at the warmth and quickly shutting her eyes. She was asleep in a matter of minutes. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may be confused on why Nevan doesn't seem to be bothered in Callum's presence. It's due to his traumatic past, before, but he actively sees the wrongs of both sides, having worked for Eclipse in the past. Thus, he doesn't have any true contempt for humans like Rayla, and other elves, but rather is fed up with the war, and the status of the world.
> 
> anywaysss: sorry that this update took so long! i had to finish up a few projects, and start my college essays :((( 
> 
> but alas, hope is not lost. i have no job this summer, and will have hours upon hours upon hours of freetime. 
> 
> anyways anyways, comment!! reading them always makes me happy! 
> 
> p.s seriously when is season 4 going to be announced??? this is getting out of hand. i'm scared because the release of a book that takes place directly AFTER season 3 will be released around fall, which is troubling. why would they write a book about the events that will unfold after season 3, unless they aren't planning to follow it up with another season?!?! im probably overanalyzing the situation, but you can never trust netflix's ability to renew a show. they are the devil.


	7. Magical Tutorage, and the Tundra

Ever since Nevan’s arrival, Rayla felt on-edge. Her neck, constantly prickled with unease, as if there were sets of eyes watching her every move. 

The forest was passed during their second day in Xadia, with the terrain now resembling more and more of a tundra as they continued their travels. Unlike the forest, which offered many spots to hide and weave in between the trees unknowingly, the tundra-like terrain served no such luxury. With the land being mostly flat, and barren, Nevan, with use of his flight, could scout and see potential threats miles away. Of course, this meant that they could be spotted just as easily. By nightfall, they would officially reach the tundra; the coldest region of Xadia,  _ Zanthum _ . 

Zanthum was described in haunting tales in the isolated, far away Silvergrove. Stories of soldiers forced to decapitate their fingers by themselves, at the mercy of the elements. It was said that if one didn’t have a raging fire concurrent through the night, that it would result in certain death. If the breach, in all of its lava-glory, wasn’t enough of a divide between the lands, then traversing through tens of miles of frozen, subzero land would be an additional barrier from an invasion.

Crossing through Zanthum when Rayla’s team ventured to the human kingdoms was reasonable. Half of her team was sent to gather firewood, and each of them took shifts tending the flames to ensure the safety of everyone else. With their position inside a cave, along with their sleeping gear, the temperature was nowhere near as horrid as the stories claimed. 

A quaint snowflake landed on the bridge of her nose, breaking Rayla’s train of thought. Blizzards in tundras were as common as rain in rainforests, but rain isn’t typically a determinant between life and death. Although the sun was barely falling, Rayla knew the importance of gathering enough wood for the night. 

Rayla glanced towards her side, where the berries meant for Callum, and Nevan, both remained uneaten. She scowled upon hearing a familiar laugh in the distance. 

There, alongside Nevan, stood a grinning Callum, holding onto his magical orb with his left hand. “You have quite the talent human! Are you sure there’s not any skywing in you?” Asked Nevan, also smiling at Callum’s quick progression.

Rayla softened at the sight of the grinning prince but knew she had to intervene with their training. “So, the berries that I picked this morning… are they going to be eaten by you, or by the wildlife?” Ralya placed her hands on her hip while attempting to frown at the two.

Callum’s smile didn’t falter when he turned to look towards Rayla. “Yeah, sorry. We just got carried away in training. Nevan keeps teaching me more and more runes, you should blame him on his insistent teaching.” Callum said, walking towards Rayla and the berries.

Rayla saw a brief scowl by Nevan at the jab. “As important as your ‘self-defense’ training is, we need to start gathering wood for the night. There’s a cave a bit ahead we’ll spend the night in, it’s the same one that my team took refuge in.”

If the two were confused by the early set-up for the night, they didn’t show it. With a simple shrug, the two took their berries, and began walking on their previous course, all the meanwhile discussing magic. 

This was a new side of Callum Rayla hadn’t seen before. His eyes gleamed with curiosity, and he eagerly pestered Nevan with multitudes of questions every chance he could. Nevan didn’t seem to be too exasperated by Callum’s constant barrage of questions. 

“It’s important you know your limits. Every mage knows how far they can go through experience, yet a general rule of thumb for beginners like yourself is to not touch high-level runes until further experience.” 

Callum seemed put off by this. “What if you go past your limits? Would you pass out?” Callum’s eyes widened. “How do you know you’re going to pass your threshold?” 

Nevan chuckled lightly, remembering when he was in the same position as Callum; afraid that his love for magic could result in his own demise. “Your body would face the same exhaustion it would face if you were to sprint for miles. It would be easy to see your limit approaching given your pain.” 

Callum seemed relieved upon hearing that. “And what if you ignore your body, and keep casting runes?”

Nevan grimaced. “For you, the orb you carry in your hand would simply shatter, if it’s overused. For any normal skywing elf, their connection to the sky arcanum would be severed permanently. When one’s arcanum is diminished, death usually follows suit.”

Callum pondered Nevan’s warning. Once again, he formulated another question for the skywing elf. “Is it possible for elves to connect to an alternate arcanum? If it is, would their new arcanum be a life-line as their original? Or would they remain living if they over-exerted themselves?”

Rayla looked at Callum grimly, and shook her head. “Aaravos is the only elf known to have connected to an additional primal source -- and his legacy isn’t one that is discussed amongst our people.” Rayla shivered as the name  _ Aaravos _ left her mouth, the stories pertaining to the troubled star-touched elf were those of pure horror and carnage. 

An uncomfortable silence partook the trio, as they continued trudging through feet of snow. Whenever Aaravos was brought to the conversation, even if it was just for reference, everyone in the Silvergrove felt waves of apprehensiveness. Glancing towards Nevan, it seemed that he had a similar regard towards the subject.

Nevan looked away, and at last, responded. “That, Callum, isn’t a question you or myself will have to worry about. To be frank, there’s no true point in discussing magical overloading with you -- for you aren’t  _ connected _ to the sky arcanum; you’re merely tapping into its energy through the stone” 

Callum’s face looked downcast, as he stared into the luminescent orb he was holding. “I was wondering because -” Callum sighed, continuing to stare into the orb, “if I ever did connect to the sky arcanum, then the scenario I stated would pertain to myself.” 

At that, one of Nevan’s eyebrows rose in shock. “Callum… there have been no humans in known history to have connected to  _ any _ arcanum. If humans could, then perhaps there wouldn’t be a thousand-year-long conflict between our species. Humans couldn’t perform  _ natural _ magic, so they instead commit the atrocious practice of  _ dark magic. _ ”

“Aaravos connected to an arcanum outside of his own. How would that be any different from a human connecting to one?” Callum retorted, tossing his primal orb between his hands. 

Nevan’s eyes narrowed. “That  _ monster _ is not a normal being. He is someone who cannot be compared to any elf, or human for that matter.”

Callum stopped asking Nevan any more questions after that. Despite his insistence that it wasn’t possible, he didn’t lose hope in connecting to the sky primal.  _ It’s the concept that matters _ . _ If an elf can connect to an arcanum completely separate to their own, whose to say humans can’t either? _ Callum told himself. 

When they finally approached the cave, the meek flurry of snowflakes had morphed into a raging storm of a blizzard. Rayla’s eyes stung with the occasional flake piercing her eyelids, almost obstructing her sight. The wind wasn’t as gracious either. It seemed that the elements were teaming up against them, with the wind assisting the snow with high-speed gusts of air, blowing the snowflakes against Rayla at an annoyingly high rate. 

The three visibly let out a sigh of relief once they stepped into the cave, immediately feeling the absence of the wind. The cave was just as Rayla remembered, with ashes still remaining in the team’s constructed fire-pit made from outlined stones. A deep wave of loneliness gnawed at Rayla’s insides. She could almost envision the six of them, huddled around the raging fire in an attempt to keep warm. 

Callum’s bag dropping on the cave floor broke Rayla free from whatever emotions were constraining her. “Right, let’s start the wood gathering process.” 

The wood would be drenched with snow, but what her team did was start the fire with their packed kindling, and they used the smoky fire during the beginning stages as a means to dry the future logs. Now, however, with two sky mages, perhaps there would be a solution. 

-

Rayla shook her head at the sight of all their belongings scattered across the floor of the cave. There, in the middle of the mess, stood Callum rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, still holding onto his primal orb. “When I asked you to use  _ Aspiro _ to dry the wood, one would think to  _ move _ our stuff out of the way,” Rayla said, snorting at the sight. 

The tactic, for the most part, had been successful. Nevan and Rayla opted to gather the wood in the blizzard and placed the logs in a stack for Callum to air-dry them. The fire wasn’t ideal, and its excessive smoke represented that fact, but it was certainly enough to keep them alive during the night. 

The labor was strenuous and took until sundown, but at last the pile of wood was big enough to ease Rayla’s consciousness. Tossing her remaining logs onto the pile, awaiting Callum’s magic, Ralya plopped down on her sleeping bag and searched for their dinner in her bag. 

They hadn’t had time to go hunting beforehand, and given that there was a blizzard, any chance of finding an animal would be low at best. Frowning, she placed the mixture of berries, and plants on a cloth. They were an assortment that was made up of sunberries, moon berries, figs, and stamin leaves. It wouldn’t be a hardy meal, but it would suffice for the three of them. 

Nevan entered the cave wordlessly and dropped off his last few logs. Rubbing his hands together in front of the fire, he eyed the array of plants that were laid out. “This must be a mistake. Why are we eating our food’s… food?” This earned an eye roll from Rayla. 

“We had berries yesterday, and you’re welcome to scavenge for food out there,” Rayla pointed towards the exit to the cave, wind howling to add to Rayla’s point. 

Nevan merely grumbled in reply, taking his ration from the pile and quickly consumed it with haste. 

Callum, once finished with drying the remaining log, saw this as a prime opportunity to learn more about the sky primal. Rayla watched with amusement as Callum asked his heart away, never seeming to get enough answers out of the sky wing elf. Each question answered, left the door open for more questions regarding the subject -- and Callum didn’t hesitate to pursue the knowledge. 

What was surprising, was Nevan calmly responding to each of Callum’s bombardments of questions, showing a patience and understanding which reminded her of Runaan, when he taught her the art of sword fighting for the first time. He held no ill towards Callum, even smiling at times upon the nature of Callum’s inquiries. 

The fire was well-maintained now, with its heat warming the floor of the cave, and even the walls around her. It was such a success, that if the sound of wind crashing against the rocks wasn’t so present, then Rayla would have presumed it to be a normal day. She knew it would get colder during the night, most likely forcing the three to move closer towards the fire, so Rayla took the opportunity to drift-off in a half-state of consciousness. She closed her eyes, and relaxed at the radiated heat from the flames, but was still aware of the conversation Callum, and Nevan were partaking in. 

She didn’t know when she fell asleep for real, but it must have been for a few hours. The cave was no longer as bright as it was; the fire being the only source of light in the otherwise darkened cave. Glancing outside confirmed her suspicion that it was night, and she found herself angry that she lowered her guards as easily as she did. 

Turning towards the fire, she noticed that Callum was buried in his sleeping bag, with his lips forming a faint smile. Rayla found that in recent nights, Callum’s countenance when sleeping was of pure peace, and innocence. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He grabbed some of the insulating material used for the sleeping bag, and pressed his face against it sweetly.Realizing that she was staring at the sleeping prince for too long, she quickly scanned the cave for Nevan, not wanting to be tormented by him with his layers of sarcasm. 

She sighed in relief when she found Nevan poking a stick into the fire absentmindedly, paying no attention to her antics. Knowing that she would have to stay up to tend the fire, she sat down beside him and stared into the flames. 

The only sound present was the crackling of the flames reverberating within the cave’s walls. Rayla thought back to Nevan’s willingness to teach Callum, and the fact that he was unnerved by his presence. Breaking the silence, Rayla softly spoke to make sure Callum wasn’t awakeneded. “It took me weeks to fully denounce my notions of what humans were. To see Callum as a person and not a  _ human _ in the context I was born to see through.” 

Nevan said nothing in reply, but she knew he was listening. “How come you’re so… comfortable around him? You don’t seem to have any ill-feelings towards him; I guess I’m just surprised knowing how long it took me to see passed my prejudice.” 

Rayla could see Nevan’s eyes harden, as he froze momentarily. He looked like he was in pain, and Rayla quickly realized why after he quietly replied. “My entire life was uprooted in the nads of elves. I was never taught to hate humans in the order, but to follow instructions and excel in my abilities.” Rayla noticed Nevan grasp air with his right hand, something she observed as a strange mannerism by the skywing elf. “I’ve been sent to kill humans and elves alike. In the end, we both bleed the same blood and are corrupt all the same. My life is a testament that the notion that elves are  _ morally _ righteous is a fabricated lie.”

Rayla didn’t know how to reply, as she saw Nevan’s features harden in anger at the mention of his past. She did, however, take Nevan’s words seriously. Now, with an assassination order on her own head, and Nevan’s story, it was awfully apparent that elven corruption was  _ real _ , just veiled in secrecy, and concealed. It made her insides twist, seeing the world for how it was, and not how she was taught. 

Attempting to lighten the mood after sitting in saddened silence, Rayla put her hand on Nevan’s shoulder. “So, you hate everybody?” Rayla grinned.

That earned a light chuckle from Nevan. Once again, he grasped the air beside his hand. “I suppose.”

Even though Rayla didn’t know Nevan for long, she recognized trauma when she saw it. Feeling pity for him, she patted his shoulder. “Get some rest Nevan. I’ll tend the fire.” Rayla said, stretching her arms to help wake herself up.

Rayla was shocked when Nevan responded to her act of kindness with a scowl. “You neglect to let me, or Callum take watch during the night. Seeing how there is a blizzard, with no possible escape outside the cavern, I suggest you take this opportunity to sleep.”

Rayla raised an eyebrow at that. “You  _ suggest _ ?”

Nevan shrugged. “I’m going to tend the fire no matter what. It’d be a waste of an opportunity to sleep if you simply stayed here watching me.” 

Rayla blew a strand of hair from her forehead with annoyance but knew that Nevan was right. Reluctantly, she walked towards her sleeping bag, which laid right beside Callum’s passed-out body. 

Attempting to make as little noise as possible, Rayla crawled into the inviting warmth. When she finally was in a comfortable position, she could feel Callum’s warm breath tingling against the back of her neck. Frowning, she tried to simply ignore their proximity, but to no avail. Just as she decided to put more space between herself and the sleeping prince, she felt his arm drape over her waist tightly, and pull herself to his chest. 

All of Rayla’s body felt as if it was on fire upon his closeness. As if that wasn’t bad enough, unconscious Callum buried his face into Rayla’s hair, nuzzling it with a contented sigh. 

Rayla froze in complete shock. If she struggled out his grasp, then he would surely wake up, and see their current position, which would certainly result in levels of awkwardness she couldn’t begin to fathom. Looking towards the fire, she winced as she saw Nevan staring at the two, with the largest grin she had seen him wear. He tilted his head to further to add onto his smug expression. 

Rayla mouthed,  _ help me _ , which only furthered Nevan’s grin. “Look at you! Cuddling with a human. Never thought Moonshadow elves were the progressive type.” 

Rayla scowled at his jab and huffed in annoyance. The worst part was, she  _ enjoyed _ Callum’s embrace. Rayla used to hug Ethari at home whenever she felt downcast or overwhelmed regarding her training. Being in Callum’s arms… it made her feel small. It distracted her from an assassin attempting to kill her, and it distracted her from Runaan and her team’s probable death, a thought that plagued her mind throughout the nights. 

After Callum rubbed his forehead once more in her hair, she couldn’t suppress the soft smile that ghosted her lips. Rayla no longer cared about Nevan, grinning madly at her predicament. Mouthing a,  _ shut up _ towards him, she focused on the pleasant memories associated with this newly found warmth and shut her eyes. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, this chapter was a short run, and not my favorite to write. it is essential for callum's learning, though! 
> 
> things are going to start picking up... next chapter will be a big one, and the plot will finally be advancing. 
> 
> i am so shameless, i can't believe i made uncounsious callum snuggle rayla... LMAO
> 
> if you can't tell, the plot, and themselves have a loooooong way to go before they start kissin'. 
> 
> promise the next chapter will be at least 4,000+ words at the least... it's going to be a banger!!! hopefully. 
> 
> annnnnyways comment comment commment comment comment <3


	8. The Trepidation in Waiting

There was a tranquility that the night exclusively offered. Unlike the day, where the insistent sun beats its rays on oneself, the sound of wildlife offering a constant bombardment of sound, the night held a certain vibrance to it. Animals, just like elves and humans, needed their sleep, offering a silence that the day never gives. The sun and its blinding light are instead replaced by an ever-changing moon, its light exuberated being the opposite of the sun’s; calming.

Nevan shifted to see that Rayla and Callum were still sound asleep in their sleeping bags. Nevan stifled a chuckle at the memory of three nights ago in the tundra cavern, where Rayla’s sleeping arrangement was compromised by an unconscious act by the human prince, followed by Rayla’s insistence that if he were to tell Callum about what transpired, then he would see a blade protruding within his own skull. 

They passed the tundra a day ago and were relieved to see grass in its long, and torturous absence. The days traveling with the two passed quickly, with putting as much distance being their number one priority, along with Nevan’s newly-found occupation -- being a teacher. Callum, despite being human, and not connected to the arcanum, was a swift and attentive learner. Always curious, and eager for explanations, Nevan’s teachings gave himself a way out of his self-destructive thoughts that often plagued his mind. 

However, no matter how busy the day was, the night never held the same luxuries. Like always, Nevan found sleep to be hardly attainable, with the thoughts that clouded and pained his head.

They were often in regard to Arya’s passing, the scene often replaying, and replaying to no end. Tonight, however, a certain doubt filled his consciousness, an improbable, nagging thought that was most likely unsubstantial -- yet it filled his headspace nonetheless. 

_ “The Storm Spire? All eight of you?”  _

_ Nevan’s shock that eight of his… colleagues were to traverse to the Storm Spire, for whatever their mission’s purpose, was shown visibly in his stricken facial expression. Arya was no less shocked.  _

_ Turning to look at her, he saw that she was biting her fingernails -- a habit that usually hinted that she was in deep thought.  _

_ Looking up at his friend Karl, Nevan couldn’t begin to understand on why they were being sent there, on what they would accomplish. “What are you guys going to do?” _

_ Karl’s face darkened momentarily, before resuming its neutral expression. “You know I can’t tell you Nevan. Even telling you guys where I’m headed… he’d have my neck.”  _

_ Nevan sympathized with his friend. The Order made it painstakingly clear not to brief anyone else on one’s assignment, unless imminent death was one’s intended goal. Still, it was curious, to say the least. The Order strayed away from group missions as much as possible, the only group assignments were usually in forms of two, himself and Arya being a prime example. Furthermore, the Storm Spire was where the royal family resided. Surely, if they needed to enter the Storm Spire without permission, then it would be next-to-impossible.  _

_ Arya was likely reading the situation as Nevan, her eyebrows pinched together like they often did when she was apprehensive.  _

_ Grabbing Karl’s forearm, Nevan nodded at his friend. “See you on the other side.”  _

_ It was a saying that quickly became a tradition before people departed. On a surface level, the words were of comradeship and comfort. If one looked deeper, the true meaning of the saying was far more sinister. After seeing countless people in the Order seemingly disappear, or die on their missions, it was a grim reality that sooner or later, everyone’s time would come. Thus, the saying was simply a statement; that eventually they will all see each-other in whatever awaits after death.  _

_ Karl’s eyes flicked downwards. “Actually, after the mission, Ec-.” Karl’s face paled and frantically looked around the corridor for any other listeners.  _

_ In a much lower voice, Karl continued. “Eclipse is involved with the mission. Just like the rest of them, the headmaster promised our freedom upon completion of our assignment.” _

_ Both Nevan and Arya grimaced. On many occasions, an excited member of the Order claimed that they won’t return upon completion of their assignment. It had happened numerous times; each time people urged them to send them a signal, or a goodbye upon their leave, to validate whether or not their ‘freedom’ was not serrated steel in their flesh. Each of the times, they received no such signal.  _

None of the eight returned to the Order, something that didn’t necessarily astonish Nevan and Arya. 

It was a preposterous notion; that the Order and  _ Eclipse _ for that matter had interference with the royal family, or that they succeeded in the first place. Nevan remembered upon hearing the news, the news that shook the entirety of Xadia to its core. That the human king of Katolis struck down Avizandum with dark magics. Karl, the Order, and  _ Eclipse  _ were not apart of that equation -- none of them delved in dark magic at all. 

Still, Nevan was uneasy thinking about the timing of it. Just  _ two  _ weeks after the eight of them left, tragedy befell upon Xadia. 

Nevan pulled his cloak closer around himself, continuing to stare intently into the bed of coals in front of him. Rest, like always, wouldn’t come easy to him. 

-

It was just about sunrise when Rayla arose entirely from her half-waking slumber. It became a rigid routine for their newly found trio to start walking from sunrise to noon, and then from noon to sundown. Rayla, as always, woke up before both Nevan and Callum, opting to help gather their belongings and prepare breakfast. 

Rubbing both her eyes and stretching her arms in an attempt to fully awaken, she stifled a yawn in an attempt to let the two rest for longer. Groggily, she partook in her morning tradition of chores. It would only be minutes before she would have to wake the two up, but even then, that amount of time alone would prove to be enough for certain…  _ thoughts  _ to arise. Although it was physically tiring -- walking and traversing through Xadia, setting up the campsite, and preparing the meals, it kept her busy; it was a beautiful  _ distraction.  _

She would never outright tell the two that she enjoyed their company, and relished the constant conversations, banter, and teasing between them, but in all regards Rayla did. Callum had become a sort of... strange  _ acquaintance _ . Rayla never truly had  _ friends  _ growing up, for training for her role as an assassin left little-to-no time for friendships, and even when she had the opportunity to converse with others she found herself naturally reclusive. But she couldn’t consider Callum her  _ friend _ , could she? He was her  _ prisoner,  _ and she was the reason why his entire life was uprooted. Even if Zubeia organizes a trade for the egg and Callum like Nevan predicts, he would have to remain a  _ prisoner _ , in a foreign land. 

Despite this, Rayla bit her cheek in the recollection of the levels of closeness the two had seemingly partaken in throughout their journey. On any form of metric, although Rayla was no expert, the two would be considered  _ friends _ , if Callum hadn’t been human, or her prisoner for that matter. The two conversed constantly throughout their trip. Most of the time, they were innocent inquiries or questions, or playful teasing between the two. Whether the conversations were light-hearted, or rounds of teasing, Rayla couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the human prince’s company, no matter how daunting the circumstance was between them. 

Furthermore, Rayla hadn’t been repulsed at the proximity Callum shared with her only three nights prior. 

_ Nope, not going there.  _

Rayla always flushed at the mere memory of that night, with Nevan holding the night’s...  _ event  _ to be his ultimate weapon in conversation. Whenever the two would even begin to argue, he would subtly mention the incident by innocently asking Callum: “How did you enjoy your sleep in the tundra?” It was an evil tactic, but it forced Rayla to shut her mouth, all the meanwhile a confused Callum continued to ask what Nevan means whenever he asks about his sleep during that night.

After gathering their materials from the campsite, and placing their breakfast berries on the cloth, she decided to awaken the two. It was truly a sight to behold, seeing Callum fast-asleep in his sleeping bag. Almost always, whenever Rayla had to wake him up for the day, she saw an unconscious Callum nuzzling whatever he could get a hold of. Whether it was the insides of his sleeping bag, his travel bag, or even a sketchbook one morning, it was always an amusing, yet heartwarming sight. Looking at him now, he was clutching a wool blanket to his head, occasionally rubbing his cheek against it. 

Just three nights ago, that blanket was her hai-. Rayla, once again, felt her neck begin to warm.  _ Stop it. Stop thinking about that.  _ She scowled at her consciousness for bringing it up again.

“Wake up you two oafs, it’s time to get up.” Rayla ceremoniously said, while clashing her two blades together in a fashion as loud as possible. It was a trial and error system on waking Callum up for the day’s journey, and she found that loud noises were the best antidote to the morning grogginess. 

In just a few seconds, after a string of grumbling curse words from Nevan, Callum stood up and began packing away his sleeping bag. Adorably, a strand of hair on the back of his head was sticking up, completely disregarding the laws of gravity.  _ Adorable? What the hell was wrong with her this morning? _

Nevan, through his seemingly telepathic, pain-in-the-ass persona, must have read Rayla’s inner thoughts, for he quietly chuckled after standing. “How was your sleep today, Callum?”

Rayla gritted her teeth, involuntarily pointing her swords towards the waking sky-wing elf. She must have been a whole shade of pink at this point, which she thoroughly despised. Rayla then wondered to herself if killing Nevan would have a net-positive impact on her mission. An extra means of protection against the future assassins, sure, but was it truly worth it? 

Callum, like always, was confused at Nevan’s precarious question. “Why do you keep inquiring about my sleep? Is there something you’re trying to say?” He asked, his exasperated facial expression combined with his bed hair almost making Rayla smile. 

“Oh, no reason. I just find sleep fascinating. The relaxation aspect of it, the dreams, and of course, how could we leave out the  _ cuddling _ ...” Nevan grinned towards Rayla at his last words, causing her to turn from the two, her face resembling more and more of a tomato by the second. 

Luckily, Callum didn’t seem to catch on to Nevan’s implications, for he simply shrugged, and resumed stuffing his sleeping bag into his travel-bag. 

-

Lunch, like always, was followed by a brief session of self-defense, magical tutorage from Nevan. They had picked a clearing in the forest for practice, wanting to minimize any potential damage from Callum’s lack-of-control in terms of the spells he was taught. 

Callum, with his left hand clutching the magical orb, traced a rune in the air, and after a brief moment of silence, shouted:  _ Fulminus et paritus! _

Rayla watched as the initial bolt of lightning that resembled the  _ Fulminus  _ spell, which she was well acquainted with, was released from Callum’s palm, only for it to disperse into dozens of smaller bolts, colliding roughly against the trees in the distance. Callum enthusiastically pumped his hand in the air, grinning towards an impressed Nevan.

Rayla involuntarily softened at the sight. Callum’s eyes were glimmering with excitement, and his facial expressions brought out much of his youth -- a side of him Rayla only had glimpses into. 

“Well done!” Nevan patted Callum’s shoulder, impressed. “This, although a very situational spell, normally poses a challenge for beginner mages.”

Callum rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I have an eidetic memory, and have some experience in drawing. And a good teacher as well.” He smiled, nudging Nevan’s side. 

Nevan grinned and turned towards Rayla. “Do we have time for another rune? Or does your highness request us to start moving once more?”

They were making great time for the past few days, nearing the Silvergrove; the mid-way-point from the Breach, and the Storm Spire. If they kept their pace, in fact, by the next night the three of them would be well-protected, and able to sleep on a genuine mattress. 

As appealing as a roof over their head, and a hardy, warm meal sounded, Rayla couldn’t help but dread the coming reunion with her home. How was she going to explain to Ethari, how his own husband was slaughtered, but  _ she _ survived? Would he feel resentment that she had returned, and not his husband? Rayla bit the inside of her cheek in a state of worry. 

_ The flowers _ , Rayla recalled. Each flower, infused with enchantments, replicated the assassin’s life-force. How had the entire village reacted to all the flowers, sinking to the bottom of the pond beside her own?  _ Perhaps they are still alive, simply being held as prisoners.  _ Rayla inwardly shuddered at the thought of that fate.  _ Death would be a more welcome end.  _

Realizing that the two were still awaiting a response from her, Rayla tried to play off her apprehension for their coming destination. “We should be heading out by now, and you’ll have time tonight to learn the  _ runes.  _ You realize that if your friends are looking for us, practicing with  _ lightning _ isn’t the smartest thing to do? Might as well send a beacon into the air and let them know our exact location.”

Nevan rose an eyebrow. “It’s one thing memorizing the runes, miss swordswoman. It takes a certain level of dexterity to pronunciate, and release the spell. Back me up, Callum.”

Rayla glared at Callum, who seemed hesitant to argue with her, jamming his hands in his pocket and walking towards the path. “Nevan’s right -- it  _ is _ different than simply drawing it on a sheet of paper. But I have no problem playing it safe.” 

Nevan shook his head in a grim fashion. “The  _ Order…  _ they aren’t just some half-ass group of bandits. We’re trained from birth, to carry out our assignments with diligence, and success. We’re going to need  _ all _ the help we can get, especially if they send multiple people, which is probable in this scenario.”

Rayla frowned, but could not form a rebuttal. “Once we arrive at the Silvergrove, we’ll have some time for testing out the runes. Also, we should be given mounts upon arrival -- I’m sure we’ll be able to avoid them from there on out.”

It was an attempt to ease their nerves, something that had been tried numerous times in the past days. It was a stark reality-check, that they were being hunted by  _ trained assassins,  _ that their lives were in a concurrent state of risk in every waking moment. 

Very quickly, they were reminded of their dire situation. Just like that, the tension as if they were being stalked, waiting to be ambushed consumed the air, resulting in a harrowing silence between the three. 

The dense forest they were traversing through, although it concealed them at first glance, only rose Rayla’s nervousness. Behind any one of the trees, or layers of shrubs could hide an assassin assigned to murder her. Although it was impractical, she wished that they were in the open terrain of the tundra once more, only to not get ambushed, or have this sense of… trepidation everywhere they walked. 

\- 

Nevan had opted to take the first watch during the night. Rayla, at first, was hesitant in allowing him to watch over her, and the human prince, but gradually caved in, allowing him to take shifts. Of course, Callum was not granted that luxury, with him still being a  _ prisoner _ . 

The flames that Nevan was accustomed to by losing track of time, was unanimously decided to be destroyed during a discussion. They had decided, through fear of getting spotted in the night, that unless they were in desperate need of warmth, then a fire burning faintly throughout the night would be more harmful than helpful. 

Staring into the sky, Nevan quickly spotted the faint crescent moon, covered by passing clouds. A gnawing emptiness panged his insides.  _ Arya. _ Staring into its faint luminescent glow, it oh-so-painfully reminded him of her. Her laughter, her smile, all of the memories, the good and bad flooded through him. As much as it pained him, Nevan couldn’t help but wonder if she was up there, with the moon. If she could see him, and see what he was doing now. 

She would be proud if she was in his position. Joyous even, despite the fact that she would be hunted by the people she grew up with. She always wanted to rebel from the nature of her confinement -- their practical slavery in the  _ Order.  _ Nevan let out a quiet choked laugh. She wouldn’t have hesitated, like him, in deciding to help Rayla. She would, without a doubt, knowing Eclipse’s intent, fight beside a stranger for the greater good -- for a greater purpose. 

In the coming days, would he join her in the heavens? 

  
  


A few miles behind the trio, eight figures traversed through the forest floor in complete silence. Following the faint footprints of three individuals, the path was unmistakenly clear. A human, the Moonshadow elf, and  _ Nevan.  _

He was liked among the  _ Order _ , he offered relief in the tense, and painful environment the Order fostered. Now, he would be dead in the hands of those he grew up with. If the eight had any opposition to what they were ordered to do, they squashed it down along with any morals they had before their upbringing. 

They were the  _ Order _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i profusely apologize for how long it took to get this chapter out. and that it wasn't as long as i expected - but it was essential for the growing plot. things are gonna start picking up, and the plot (fr this time) is going to moving ahead!
> 
> that being said, i am so SHAMELESS in making Rayla nervous like this... lmao. 
> 
> anywaysss, comment comment comment <3


	9. The Ambush

Nevan was uncharacteristically silent. 

They had only known each other for a relatively short time, yet Rayla, if she needed to, could easily recite every one of Nevan’s mannerisms and quirks. He scratched the back of his ear, similarly like a dog, when he was agitated over something. When he was in contemplation, his eyes glossed over and changed from its original tint of brown. 

At night, he would not speak for hours on end, opting to stoke the fire and stare into its flames -- like he was entranced by its movement. In the mornings,  _ however _ , he was painfully loud. 

Although Rayla was normally the one who woke the two up, she wondered if Nevan ever even slept. After a few seconds of stretching, he talked in an unbearably loud fashion, often jibing, and commenting over every action she and Callum made. 

This was why, Rayla was particularly alarmed when Nevan had remained silent during their breakfast, and for the hours leading after. It was nearly midday, and he had not said a word. At first, it was a welcome change from his original persona, but grew increasingly worrisome as the day progressed. 

Glancing periodically at him, Rayla noticed that his hands frequently returned to his trouser’s pockets - patting and feeling its exterior, and then pulling away. 

Thus, the mundane cycle of Callum making a remark on the scenery, followed by Nevan scanning the area for any signs of intrusion, and lastly Nevan patting his pocket was quickly getting on Rayla’s nerves. Not that she  _ minded  _ the silence, but, there was something offputting in Nevan’s movements. 

Since his arrival, he had been frantic throughout the day, and relatively tranquil at night. Throughout their trek in Xadia, he was constantly scanning the horizon, or the looming trees in search for signs of the assassins. 

Now, when he periodically scanned the area around him, he didn’t hold that same fierce look in his eye that he normally held; rather, it seemed like he was devoid of any life. 

Callum was seemingly oblivious to the change in Nevan’s mood, for he occasionally stated a wry joke, only to receive a faint nod in recognition from the sky wing elf. 

_ Something was off.  _

-

Callum noticed the silence that seemed to have constricted the air around him. Nevan seemed strangely aloof, and whenever Callum decided to attempt to crack a joke or a comment, he had a minimal reaction at most. 

This unfamiliar silence gave Callum the chance to think about his situation. He knew that Ezran was alive, so the likelihood of an arrangement for himself, and the dragon egg, was promising. However, there are unforeseen variables in the equation. 

Zubeia, for example, could choose a less-friendly approach to the situation. She could lay siege to the human kingdoms, and deliver Callum’s head on an elf’s pike, as a present to Ezran and Katolis. 

Shuddering, Callum attempted to ease his worries.  _ If the queen were to act rationally, the most beneficial action for Xadia, and herself, would be to organize a trade.  _ But then again, since when does one act rationally in times of grief, and anger?

Truly, his fate was in the queen’s hand. Would she choose to see past the wrongdoings of Callum’s step-father, in favor of benevolence, and diplomacy? Or would Ezran have to live his life without a brother? 

Attempting to clear his head, Callum surveyed his surroundings. They were descending from a relatively minute mountain and were surrounded by looming, skinny trees that had an unearthly tint of yellow. Just in the distance, the trees dissipate, and from what Rayla had said, they would be approaching the Great Plains. A landscape, as Rayla lovingly put it, as a ‘mundane wasteland’. 

Callum wasn’t too sure of Rayla’s reliability in her description. From the forests to the wildlife, Callum was enamored by the scenery around him. If he could, and wasn’t technically a  _ prisoner _ , he would want to spend his entire days drawing his surroundings. For what Rayla would describe a ‘wasteland’, could be land only dreamed of in Callum’s imagination. 

And just like that, Callum’s thoughts shifted from the scenery of Xadia, to a certain Moonshadow elf. It was remarkable, and quite strange, on how familiar they have become with one another. Gone were the deafening silences that consumed their walks, or the glares they both received and gave. 

If Callum was being honest, Rayla, his  _ captor _ , resembled something that he didn’t have a whole lot of back home -- a  _ friend.  _ It was ludicrous, the mere thought of their glaringly distinct situation gave Callum a whiplash back to reality, but it was true nonetheless. 

Rayla, unaware of the human prince’s thoughts, was regarding Nevan once more. He now held his hand on his trouser pocket, occasionally rubbing his thumb against the seams.  _ What was in there that he is so set out onto checking? _

Rayla, briefly scanning his face to read his expression, saw his right ear flickering. His face turned that of a deer paranoid of its surroundings. That was all the warning she had before an arrow was lodged in his shoulder. 

Falling immediately from the impact, Nevan released a bile-inducing cry. Rayla, although in a state of shock, didn’t forget her decade long training. Immediately, she unsheathed her blades and turned to face the perpetrators of the attack. 

She was expecting to see cold-blooded mercenaries; perhaps scarred so horrendously that they had to cover their faces with masks. What she wasn’t expecting, were  _ eight teenagers _ , each carrying a different assortment of weapons. 

The archer, who Rayla deduced had shot Nevan, was a girl no older than twelve, with an unmistakable look of regret upon seeing the arrow lodged into his shoulder. 

Some of the eight differed in age and stature; for example, there was a young man who carried an angled knife in his hand, twirling it around between his fingers with expertise only crafted from years of practice. 

There was an earth-blood elf, with shining golden hair, that was relatively short and skinny but held a wooden staff that nearly doubled her height, indicating that she wasn’t to be taken lightly. 

All of their eyes briefly glanced towards Nevan, who was on the ground, twitching occasionally, and Rayla could see the guilt and reluctance in their eyes, presumably from attacking one of their own. 

Yet, when they turned towards herself and Callum, who hastily grabbed his orb from the bag, holding it with a trembling hand, their expressions turned stone-cold in resolve. 

Nothing, no amount of training from Rayla’s end could have prepared her for this. Each of them looked formidable with their weapons, and the sheer number of them would dispose of her in mere seconds. 

With what seemed like hours, but in reality, were only a few seconds of stand-off, the stalemate was broken with one of the eight releasing what seemed to be a battle cry, which was followed by a charge. 

With years of crafted reaction time, and instinct, when the boy’s knife appeared flying in front of Rayla, she swiftly swiped upwards with one of her swords, effectively deflecting it in an unknown direction. 

Just as Rayla pulled back her sword towards the circling crowd, three sun elves, with identical broadswords were upon her. 

Rayla had her back to Callum, who she could only  _ pray _ was holding off the other side of attackers. But how long could Callum, a human prince, inexperienced in battle, last against these trained assassins?

Rayla didn’t have time to finish the thought, for soon the three sun elves, all with precise blows, sought to dismember her. 

The first two blows, she effectively evaded with a parry and a subsequent dodge, but the third one landed into her hip, resulting in a stab of pain she had never experienced before. 

One of the elves must have seen this as an opening, for he lunged away from his two peers in an aggressive, but  _ dangerous _ swipe at her abdomen. Seeing the opportunity, and attempting to ignore the blood exerting itself from her wound, and the mindnumbing pain, Rayla pivoted, and with the speed that she was known for in training, stabbed through his exposed side. 

As Rayla slid her blade out of the elf’s flesh, the man crumpled to the ground,  _ lifeless _ . It suddenly occurred to her, that she had taken a  _ life _ . 

Before she could begin to think about that prospect, Callum let out a cry, which prompted Rayla to briefly turn around. 

To her surprise, an elf in front of Callum laid lifeless on the ground, with visible scorch marks scattered across his exposed chest. 

Rayla was quickly reminded of her current situation, when she instinctually dodged away from a swipe at her neck, barely missing its target. 

Just as Rayla was about to counter-attack, a plume of smoke obstructed her vision. Coughing, and rubbing her eyes, she realized that it was dust that was responsible for the obstruction. It seemed that the entire vicinity was covered with a veil of dust. Squinting her eyes in an attempt to keep herself from being completely blinded, she could barely make out her surroundings. 

What she saw, which baffled her, was Nevan effectively putting up a fight between three elves. They were talking, while trading blows, with Nevan frantically, but expertly, tracing the appropriate rune to manage to fend them off. 

Just as Rayla was going to assist Nevan in his fight, she caught the eyesight of an arrow flying towards her, and managed to dodge it just in time. 

Without hesitation, Rayla attempted to ignore the searing pain in her side when she launched herself towards the archer, and before the girl could nock back an arrow in retaliation, she grazed her thigh, which prompted her to fall backward onto the ground. 

Just as Rayla was going to finish the job, the dust settled around the assassin and gave an unobscured view of the girl’s face. Her youth was clearly on display. She was so young, yet had her life mingled with…  _ atrocities.  _

“Rayla! Watch out!” 

Turning around to the source of the words, Rayla saw Nevan running from  _ three _ lifeless bodies, motioning towards the left of her. 

That was all the warning she had before a knife came hurling towards her ankle, and with just a fast enough reaction, Rayla was able to dodge the projectile in time. What she didn’t take into account, was where the knife headed towards past her own body. 

With a sickening sound, Rayla watched in horror as the angled knife lodged itself in the girl’s neck, immediately killing her. 

_ No amount of training prepared her for that.  _

Feeling sick to her stomach, Rayla felt utterly disorientated from reality. The pain from her side wasn’t even noticeable; the image of the knife lodged into the girl’s neck was  _ etched _ into her mind. She was only half-conscious when she sluggishly parried a swipe at her side from a Sunfire elf, or when she instinctually twisted her sword to nick the sword wielder’s hand, effectively disarming him. Rayla acted on impulse in her swift slash to the elf’s neck, efficiently disposing of yet another  _ life.  _

Rayla was only half-aware when roots beneath her protruded from the dirt, grasping her ankles, which resulted in Rayla slamming her head into the ground. 

-

Callum had never felt more sick to his stomach.  _ A man was dead because of him. And it was as easy as tracing a symbol and saying a single word.  _

Callum was running half-blindly in the dust, attempting to evade the elves that were previously bent on killing him, when the veil of smoke around himself suddenly dissipated. 

Slightly disorientated from the lack of obstruction in his eyesight, Callum looked around himself with one hand over his eyes, only to see Nevan, in front of himself, lying in a pool of his own blood. 

If killing a man didn’t cripple Callum, then seeing his  _ friend _ lifeless, along with another dead skywing elf beside him most certainly did. 

A quick check on his pulse confirmed that he was dead. 

Frantically looking around him, in a way to see if this living, waking  _ nightmare _ was over, he came across something that twisted every fiber in his bones, and alit him with a wave of  _ rage _ , and  _ fear _ that he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling. 

Rayla, who seemed to be unconscious, had her legs tied together in tree roots, with the last of the Order, who resembled an angry, almost  _ demonic-looking _ elf, towering over her limp body, with her staff in both hands. 

Time seemed to play in slow-motion. 

The elf’s arms, holding her staff, moved upwards above Rayla’s head, and before Callum knew what he was doing, he had traced the rune Nevan had taught to him  _ warily _ , warning him that it would take up much of the orb’s pool of energy. 

Just before the staff would slam itself onto Rayla’s head, Callum, with a scratchy and ear-splitting scream, yelled: “ _ Fulminus et amplus!” _

Callum’s vision exploded with light, both from the lightning that extended from his palm and from the splitting of the orb he held in his left hand. But he didn’t pay attention to any of those things. 

With a consuming hatred and fear Callum didn’t know he possessed, he sought that every inch of the Earthblood elf was eradicated from existence. 

As the orb finally let out and exploded into thousands of fragments, Callum could only pray to any potential god in the universe, that he wasn’t too late. Wasting no time, he ran over towards Rayla’s body, and the elf’s entirely burnt, and lifeless one, and was relieved to see Rayla’s face still resembling that of which he knew.

Callum didn’t notice before, but Rayla had a gushing wound near her hip, which exerted a  _ dangerous _ amount of blood. With shaky hands, Callum slid her body out of the roots and listened for her heartbeat.  _ Still alive.  _

A thought abruptly intruded into Callum’s head, while he hovered over Rayla’s body.  _ Leave, while you can. Run back home. See your  _ **_brother_ ** _. You’re a prisoner, aren’t you? This is your chance to escape! _

Looking around, and seeing eight elves around him lifeless, along with Nevan, it was a tempting thought. However, as tempting, and  _ rational _ as it was, as soon as he looked back towards Rayla, and her shallow breathing, any ounce of Callum’s will to leave dissipated into nothing. 

Holding her head in his hand, the panic that prevented Callum from truly feeling his emotions, was now gone. Very quickly, Callum’s vision was blurred entirely by his own tears, some of which cascaded down Rayla’s rose-tinted cheeks. 

Callum buried his head into the crook of her neck, violently shuddering. “Please don’t leave me,” He let out in a choked breath, reaching for Rayla’s bag left untouched in the midst of the battle. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip my guy nevan.
> 
> this battle wasn't meant to be a large part of the story, but it kinda just played it out to be. this chapter was really short, but the following chapters are like wayy more important and lengthy. 
> 
> in the future, when the actual plot progresses, battles won't be only like 1k words <:)
> 
> ANYWAYS, sorry for the longgggggggggggggggg delay. but to be fair i gotta apply to colleges, and take the sat, so i have my excuses! that being said i'm finishing this before winter. boom.


End file.
